Stiff-Cart Ride

Clip clop, up and down

We jerk and roll to Castletown;

Ruts, mounds, holes and stones

Give a shaking to our bones.

 

Clip clop, heaving flanks,

We are bumping on the planks;

Hedges, houses, gates and trees

We crawl past in agonies.

 

Clip clop, creaking shafts;

Little shelter from the draughts.

Nothing soft on which to sit,

Mouths and eyes are full of grit.

 

Clip clop, months and years

Seem to pass, with all their fears.

Time becomes eternity

Stretching out from tree to tree.

 

Clip clop, roll and grate,

Progress slow but sure as fate.

Streets and railings, castle, mast –

We have reached the town at last !

 

Mona’s Herald     8.2.63