A tree grows
It’s branches entwining
With another tree,
Forming a canopy
Under which pass
A lad and his lass.
Seasons pass
And sapplings grow to maturity,
While the lad and lass
We did see
Forever lie
Under sky and tree.
When a young lady whose name is Kate
Invited me out on a hot curry date,
I enjoyed lots of spice,
Which was more than nice,
But that’s enough about that young lady Kate!
For now, I hear
Vehicles passing near
This place of bone
And stone,
And will spend a little time
In rhyme
A leading actress whose name is Claire
Said, “I will see you out there”.
So I went on stage
With a performer called Page,
But there was no sign of Claire!
There once was a man who ate glue,
Which was a very strange thing to do!
When they asked, “is it nice?”
He tried to speak twice,
But he was unable, due to the glue!
I have stood
In many an English pub
Drinking beer
Both indifferent, and sometimes good.
Its queer
How people with nothing in common mingle
And those who go in single
A couple become
(At least until the rise of sun
On the morrow
When sorrow
May come,
Or they say
“That was fun”
And go their way
Or perhaps they are forever
Drawn together
As birds of a feather,
(Well, at least
Until eternal peace
Breaks their heart apart).
I have stood
In many an English pub
And sometimes caused a fuss
When I did discuss
Political matter.
No friendship did I shatter
Though I have heard
Many a foolish word
And spoken more than one or two
Its true.
I have shared a glass
With a pretty lass
At the bar
And wondered how far
(Or near we all are
To paradise
Or vice),
And I have said “good night”
And thought on delight
That never was
Because she
Had no interest in me,
Or maybe
I missed the cue to dance
And my chance
To go far
Beyond the bar . . .
I love
The solid wood
Of the traditional pub
And the way in which people, for the most part
Get along. For at its best the pubs at the heart
Of the community.
A unity
In diversity, where you see
People of every class
Raise a glass,
And as they drink
Think, “this is our pub
For bad or good
And we will keep it this way. Things will change
But the pub will remain
For it is more
Than you or me.
It is tradition, tolerance and diversity.
When a young lady named Lin
Jumped out of my biscuit tin,
And I said, with a glare,
“What were you doing in there?”,
She said, “you shut me in!”.
—
When a young lady whose name is Lin
Jumped out of my biscuit tin
She said, with a pearcing glare,
“There are no biscuits in there,
And I have grown sad and thin!”.
