Golden Biscuits

Golden and Remarkable

Memorable

unmentionable

Biscuits really aren’t what they were

Or how you remembered them being.

My melting moments

Have melted off

Gained a voice

Pretended they had a choice

And told me where to go

even though I clearly don’t know the way

to join up all the oats

up here

now and then

on the tip of John o Groats

while you old biccie

from le family circle

perch precariously prim and dim on

IceLands Landish End

Tsk! to those middling meddling midland ones

Not quite Shrewsbury or the Lincoln…….

And Bath…..

Yes Bath!

Fair Dinkum

We know fully well that Bath is just a bun.