The Thoughts of Ron The Runner Bean

In a dark and dingy corner in a box inside a shop

Where you could buy a fishing rod, old brushes or a mop,

A group of spotty runner beans had been left alone to rot,

Along with other ripened fruit that time had just forgot.

The longest of the runner beans was known as Ronny Rum

His arms and legs were very strong, and he loved having fun.

Restlessly he wriggled being more bored by the day.

‘There’s no point staying here,’ he said, ‘I’ll wilt and waste away.’

‘Oh Ron Rum,’ said the other beans,

‘Don’t forget to come back soon,

It’s better being a runner bean,

Than an old and wrinkled prune.’

So just before the shop door opened early in the morning,

Ron got up and left the box once he’d finished yawning.  

‘It’s time to see the world outside,’ as all the beans were staring,

At a girl who had just come in the shop, her name was Maisey Waring.

‘A pound of peas, a pound of plums and lettuce if you have some.’

But then she saw the box of beans with not a pea among them.

‘I’ve changed my mind I’ll have those sprouts please put them in a packet.’

 Ron saw his chance, jumped from the box and landed in her pocket.

The other beans called out to him.

‘Take care out there Ron Rum

It’s better being a runner bean,

Than a shrivelled looking plum.’

Maisey lived in a tiny house with a cat called Mr Pugh

And a happy budgerigar whose beak was black and blue.

Outside in Maisey’s garden in flowers where they would hide,

Were butterflies and ladybirds wandering side by side.

 Maisey took her coat off and left it on the ground.

So, Ronny Rum was free to go but worried he’d be found,

By a nasty noisy magpie scrounging food all scattered round.

So off he went across the floor and didn’t make a sound.

 ‘Run Ron Runner Bean run,

Don’t get caught out in the sun.

Be glad that you’re a runner Ron,

Not a crusty current bun.’

 So, Ronny ran straight to a tree and hid behind a root,

Just as a wind and drenching rain made the magpie scoot.

The wild wind blew Ron Runner Bean over here and over there,

Past chickens in a farmyard and into a head of hair.

 It was the head of Farmer Flim stirring stew inside a pot,

With cabbage and potatoes and lots of fat shallots.

Then from large bowls full to the brim went onions two by two.

Who knows, Ron thought, were they friends who in the past I knew?

 ‘Hey Ron Runner Bean run,

Don’t fall inside the pot.

It’s better being a running bean,

Than a hot and cooked shallot.’

 Ron then closed his eyes as he jumped down to the floor.

‘Ouch,’ he said back on his feet and ran through the open door,  

Along the farmer’s garden which was overgrown with weeds  

So, to a pond he quickly ran and clung to water reeds.   

Ron was looking worried searching for a good disguise.

He dashed and splashed as tadpoles stared in open eyed surprise,   

Watching reeds with Ronny’s weight go swaying side to side.

And Ronny feeling seasick thinking ‘this is no place to hide.’

‘Oh, run Ron Runner Bean run.

That reed may be too narrow.

But better being a bean, hey Ron,

Than an overweight old marrow.’

 But Ron was tired as he shooed away some irritating flies.

Lying back to take a nap he slowly closed his eyes.

And once again he didn’t see birds wheeling in the skies.

As a chaffinch diving low saw the green bean as a prize.

 Ron the sleepy bean scooped up in the swooping beak,

As the cheeky chaffinch took him off inside her big fat cheek.

But wait an even bigger bird eyed the chicks inside her nest.

The chaffinch called out in alarm and the wind did all the rest.

‘Ron, you said you’d never try,

To wander off and learn to fly.

Better being inside a pie,

Than all alone up in the sky.’

 But the wind was very fickle as it blew Ron in the air,

 And it landed him on a dodgem car in the middle of a fair.  

 Sitting back as dodgems clashed was really not so easy,

 And spinning round in circles also made him queasy.

 ‘Was this fun?’ he wondered as children said ‘hurray.’

 The time had come in the show for a firework display.

 Then a rocket accidentally caught Ron underneath his arm

 And whizzed him back inside the shop without doing any harm.

 ‘Oh, Ron Rum you’re back with us,

We’re thrilled you’re safe and sound,

Now what about the sights you’ve seen

And the places you have found?’

 ‘I never thought, when a rocket took me high into the air.

Above the helter skelter and the ice rink in the fair,

That I would see this shop again, but I made up my mind,

To see the beans inside the box that I had left behind.’

  Ron grinned and told his friends ‘I’m the only runner bean,

Who has been to places no other bean has seen,

I know that when I left here, that I was very keen,

To make sure people knew about Ron the Runner Bean.’

 ‘Ah’, said all the other beans,

‘We know we’re not so bold,

Perhaps it’s true a better bean,

Is happier growing old.’

 As months passed by Ronny Rum and many of his friends

Began to curl and grow strange mould as they faced up to the end.  

They weren’t the beans that they had been but tried to do their best,

To look after one another as each one was laid to rest.