Market Day

 A bustling Friday market
The busiest day of the week,
I set off from Crumpets Café
Through the stalls, toward Haydock street
 -
Standing proudly behind his truckles
With his cheese wire tight between his knuckles
If you’re spoiled for choice, you can try a few
As he cuts a slice with his hands so blue
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Now the pie stalls you see, there are quite a few
With blackcurrant tarts and custards too,
I have to ignore them and carry on straight
If I just stop and stare, I’ll put on weight!
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I saw Haddock, hake salmon and crab
As a pensioner considered Fishmonger’s slab,
“Money doesn’t go far,” grumbled the old man
As the queue got longer at the side of the van
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Now the butchers auction, draws quite the crowd
As he shouts out his deals, to all around
A tray of steak, some sausages and ham
If I could just squeeze past these bloody prams!
 -
Chances are I’ll see someone I know
No matter what time I go,
It’s nice to catch up, every now and then
Because you never know if you will see them again
 -
Now before I leave the Market square
I look over my shoulder, she’s still standing there,
To us locals, she’s known as the Millie stone
And she watches over this old town we call home.