Best Bat An Eyelid Poems
BACK STORY
Me and my dad used to work as a team on the Trolley Buses for Manchester Corporation, out of the Hyde Road Depot. Dad drove, and I was his offsider, collecting fares, and keeping order on the bus, like making sure people did not block the aisle, or go past the stop they had paid for. and no one was standing up if there was room to sit down, also making sure people upstairs did not bang there feet on the floor. General Spoilsport eh. In the second part, Moses was a big African fella, and his offsider was a little red headed Irishman, they usually had the run in front of us, and tried whatever they could to get us to go ahead, and take the load off them, timetables did not bother them much. I always told dad,
if it comes to a fight, I will take the little one
Trolley Buses
By Robert (Bob) Moore ©
I used to work on trolley buses, up and down Hyde Road
My dad he was the driver, and I controlled the load
Move along the bus I’d say, there’s room for 2 upstairs
that’s where you were allowed to smoke, in those days no one cared
Leave from Piccadilly, the 210 was our bus
Keep eyes on the timetable, it meant a lot to us.
Ardwick Green and Belle Vue, then on past Debdale Park
Hyde would be the Terminus, then turn and head right back
Sometimes a petrol driver, would try to make some cash
With overtime on trolleys, but sometimes they were rash
They’d forget about the trolley arm, and try to overtake
They’d see us wave and shouting, and realized “mistake”
It was all too late of course, and the sparks would start to fly
The arms were bent and waving, and the power it would die
Then swearing and apologies, and laughter close to tears
Then back to depot on batteries, for the ribbing and the sneers.
Moses was an African, his offsider was a Mick
They tried to get us to take their load, with every dirty trick
We pulled into Hyde one day, they had their trolleys down
You should be in front they said, and take the load to town.
Dad did not bat an eyelid, we’er on a break he said
you’ll have to wait 10 minutes, before we go ahead
they knew they could not wait that long, they had to make their run
so trolleys up, and off they went, we drank tea and watched the fun.
His Life, for thirty pieces of silver was sold
And, with a kiss, was callously betrayed,
Just as the Scriptures accurately foretold,
Each prophetic word was obeyed.
Like a Lamb to the slaughter he was led;
The soldiers punched him and spat on his face,
A crown of thorns was pressed on his head –
All this he bore, to clear the human race.
In front of the governor he was brought,
Many questions Pilate did ask.
Jesus never resisted, no, he never fought;
With a firm resolve he stuck to his task.
The chief priests, in accusation did say:
“This man we found speaking sedition –
No King but Caesar do we obey!”
(Such was their appalling admission)
Roman soldiers now led him to his death,
To that ominously named “Skull Place”.
A burning chill came upon his breath,
And sweat and blood ran down his face.
Now God’s only-begotten Son
Like a criminal was brutally impaled.
Laughing, the Satan thought he had won –
He thought God’s Purpose had failed.
But no! God’s Purpose was completely intact;
All went according to His Divine Plan.
That very important, though painful act
Gave the opportunity of life for Man,
Yet, those soldiers greedily rolled the dice
To see who would win his cloak.
They never bat an eyelid at his Sacrifice –
Yes, even the Jews thought him a joke!
Darkness now fell, over the Land,
Even though it was the height of day;
This sign came from God’s own Hand
To show it was Man’s last dark Day.
No more was the Devil’s death-dealing power
To leave Mankind without a release;
Love had conquered Evil, that very hour –
Christ now gives Life to whom he does please.
There isn’t the tiniest shadow of a doubt
That Christ showed more than the usual Love;
No one in need was ever left out
Because his Father watched from above.
By showing love, Jesus touched people’s hearts
And, surprisingly, caused public outrage.
A Model to copy was his Life, in all its parts –
The Book of History’s Golden Page!
DARK TIMES BE GONE!
Trying harder getting harder
The Sun rises again, nothing better
Many books are being read
The writers have all rightly said.
Day after day, strength dwindle
Hope cries out, who will rekindle?
Antagonists waiting for your fall
And you'll be done when they call
You work so hard and pray
Yet it seems like beating the air
Morning comes, hoping today is your day
Soon the sun sets, and you've gotten nowhere
Like a mumbo jumbo, your beautiful song seems
The high-flying and sparkling dream dims
Today you fly so high
The next, you can't but just cry
Why? you ask. Why is it so tough?
The road to success so rough
Can we have it all bed of roses
Maybe we can sing our song of Moses
Yet those who have come before us
Fought hard and became conquerors
Wondered if they were super-humans
Or some kind of magicians
But they are definitely not, are they?
So what's the problem here?
When will God make a way?
When shall we also have our day?
Or even have a say
Why the unending delay?
While searching through the pages of the Holy book
As the hart pants after the water brook
My heart seeks earnestly, an answer
Looking high and low, Jesus is the answer
Though my strength fails by the day
And I feel too weak to pray
Yet I will lift my heart and praise
The Only One who, out of the ashes, can raise
Though the night be so dark
I won't bat an eyelid
And the sun refuses to shine her light
Or the moon goes on holiday
And the Stars goes AWOL
I will yet hope, for morning comes when hopes rise
When the memories of the dark become a story
What a road to glory!