Beck's Poetry

It’s the week before the show begins and the steam engines get their boilers lit

Drivers wait patiently for them to reach operating temperature

All the time keen to get them out on the open road
Tonne after tonne of coal is fed into the ever hungry belly of the machine

All the while drivers behind toot horns impatiently as mile after mile is devoured.

Eventually the field becomes a spot on the horizon that looms closer and closer.

As soon as they arrive, they bank up the boiler – it cannot go out.

The engine driver turns on a tap on the front of his engine and fills his kettle with boiling water.
Cups, teabags, coffee and sugar are all found and a drink drunk as they await the arrival of the caravan.
The caravan is pitched up and drivers bed down to chill a few days – all the time keeping the belly of the beast full.

After an eternal wait, more and more steam engines and caravans arrive and barbeques and chimineas are erected alongside the lonely caravan

Petrol generators add their hum to the clankity clank of the idling engines and the wait continues.
Ropes mark out a huge square of the field and cars, motorbikes and busses arrive, all with a caravan, tent or motorhome of their own.

Tractors come and the roar gets louder.
Food vans, barrel organs and stationary engines come to contribute
Fairground rides tag along for the fun of it and stalls are erected.

On Friday night, the trucks, and Tanks arrive and the field bustles with activity.
Vehicles are placed in rows, caravans pitched up, tents built, portaloos are sited, generators roar louder and louder as night draws in.
Then… Silence as bedtime arrives
At 8am on Saturday, the doors open to the public and everything seems to start all at once.
Smell the coal of the steam engines, the diesel and paraffin of the tractors, the petrol of the cars – and listen to that din.

Off in the distance, a faint voice talks over the tannoy and the tractors make their way down to the roped square like a long metal snake as the barrel organs and fairground rides jump into life.

Later on, we’ll head down to the stalls and smell the candy floss and pork cobs. We’ll buy gifts for family and friends, all the time enjoying the sights and sounds of the showground.

At midnight everything goes silent again before starting at 8am on Sunday. This time, it ends at 5pm and the trucks, cars, stationary engines, tanks, motorbikes and tractors are all placed back onto trailers, caravans, tents, stalls and food vans are all packed away and removed from the field. Peace is restored and you hear “See you again, Next year”
Finally, the steam engines are all alone again. He’ll wait a few days before he heads off to a new steam rally and does it all over again.