A Feeding Frenzy Poem by sylvia spencer

A Feeding Frenzy

Rating: 3.9

Saturday morning oh' what a bore
cars queued up by the score.
All waiting to go into a field
to fill their pockets from their yield
Lets say good morning to you all
car booters and the noise from all
your car hooters. They sell all sorts
of wares, almost everything including
spares. Copper pans and cast iron pots
pirate videos and toys for the tots.
Junk on the ground and on their pasting
tables, decorated china with cracks under
the labels. Every Saturday Morning, there on
the dot just to get their favourate spot.
In come the Dealers, with one thing on
their mind; to snatch a bargain that's rare
to find.They will offer you a price that you cannot
resist, but really they are only taking the piss.
One mans trash is another mans treasure
but can this really be a pleasure.
Up early morning and rushing around
just to get pitched out on muddy ground.
Five pound a pitch and nothing in return
when will us mugs ever learn.
It's like a feeding frenzy when the punters
arrive it's a wonder how they manage to stay

Francesca Johnson 04 August 2006

A great poem, this. Yes, it's really like that - all the dealers rushing in, rummaging through the stuff, and then people picking things up, putting them down, picking them up again. Funnily enough, it's the stuff I consider rubbish that seems to sell quickest! Anybody want to buy a set of Nat West piggies? Love, Fran xx

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Ernestine Northover 06 June 2006

Good write Sylvia, you have caught the whole scene so well and all the effort that goes into a Car Boot Sale. Great. Love Ernestine XXX

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Duncan Wyllie 10 April 2006

Oh what! ! this had me really laughing, , brilliant, your powers of observation, not even the crack under the label excapes you..Horray for the car booters and their very funny poems, Love Duncan

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