Dear LPG, 

I never leave home without it these days.  I am referring to my Freedom Pass.  When I got the first one, I never thought I would use it half as much as I do, and even though I have a car and the ability to drive, there are so many places that I can get to with the help of a bus or train.  

I am lucky because I know many people of my age who have serious problems walking to their destinations, and even though I don’t ache half as much as I can see that some of them do, I think that most pensioners will find times when they appreciate having one to hand. 

I was en route when the inspiration came to me for the poem I would like to share today, and I felt it only right to dedicate a few words to this little bit of plastic power…

My Bus Pass

This Bus Pass in my pocket,
Is worth its weight in gold!
This Bus Pass in my pocket,
Was neither bought nor sold.
I’m thrilled to have my Bus Pass,
It takes me everywhere.
From Catford to Kings Cross,
From Penge to Belvedere.

With it I tour the city,
From morning until night.
I’m trying not to lose it,
It’s always in my sight.
So here am I all dressed up,
With lots of things to do.
Strolling to the bus stop,
Preparing to join the queue.

This Bus Pass in my wallet,
Is all I have today.
There’s no cash in my pocket,
But who cares anyway?
I’m glad I have my Bus Pass,
It takes me everywhere.
From Shepherd’s Bush to New Cross,
And back to Belvedere.

©2005 by Beverly Gooden Wilson