Hook Norton Old Hook 4.6% £3.15
Batemans GHA 4.2% £2.95
Batemans Hooker 4.5% £ 2.95
Hook Norton Double Stout 4.8% £3.25
Spectrum Spring Promise 4.5% £3.15
Archive for February, 2010
Guest Beers at the Victoria, Union Road, Lincoln
Saturday, February 20th, 2010the break
Thursday, February 18th, 2010master class
what is this thing called snow?
Thursday, February 18th, 2010snow covered palm trees, somewhat out of place
snow bathing, it’s no use if a tan is the target
snow joke for the lifeguard, coldly surveying the scene
there’s no business, like the UK February half term holiday
the snow – it came, it went, it was soon forgotten. a mythological entity, historical curiosity, or both.
Resistible
Wednesday, February 17th, 2010I have a somewhat homely face,
my nose is wrong, I’m told,
and my body never would have graced a Playgirl centrefold.
But though I’m no Lothario,
I own a natural charm,
I’ve always had a woman on my arm.
But the supply’s run dry.
I think I know why.
My bloom of youth has faded,
my mirror tells the truth,
my joie-de-vivre is jaded,
I’m too long in the tooth.
Affairs unfold so rarely now,
sporadic, inconsistent,
the last one was so long ago,
my love-life’s nonexistent.
Since then there hasn’t been a nibble,
not a soupcon, not a trace;
no maiden, ms or errant miss
has even granted me a kiss.
The upshot’s this:
I’ve become resistible.
Birthday Girl
Monday, February 15th, 2010The morning came and I awoke
to change so swift and unforeseen,
a leap from love to enmity with nothing in between.
What caused this shift from friend to foe?
What aroused her temper so?
What made her fury grow and grow?
‘Just go,’ she said,
‘if you don’t know,
then I’m not going to tell you.’
valentines wish
Sunday, February 14th, 2010I’ve two moons in my pocket,
I’d swap them for a rocket,
To blast into the stars,
So when as far as Mars,
Then transmit out the door,
The thing that I want more,
And if that wish comes true,
I`ll always be with you.
When Digging in Other People’s Gardens
Saturday, February 13th, 2010Before you set to digging in other people’s gardens,
first bear in mind what they consider weeds,
then be careful where you tread
and ask before you deadhead,
for all you know they’ll want them for the seeds.
golden magic fish eye
Saturday, February 13th, 2010I met a golden fish,
With a evil wish,
To use his magic eye,
And put me in the sky,
Now up there I won’t know,
What’s going on below,
He’ll steal my mobile phone,
To dial his way back home!
junkyard
Saturday, February 13th, 2010I met a metal man,
His head was just a can,
Then I spied his wife,
Her finger was a knife,
I also saw their son,
His screws were all undone,
And when I pet the dog,
My hand scratched on a cog.
Guest beers 12th Feb 2010
Friday, February 12th, 2010Batemans Miss Canada 4.1% £2.95
Steaming Billy Bitter 4.3% £2.95
Titanic Anchor 4.1% £2.95
Batemans Victory Ale 5.9% £3.20
My dad (Alun)
Friday, February 12th, 2010my dad (Alun)
who has lived long and intends longer
plays golf
of course
on his birthday which comes around faster
each time
battery charged
ready for another eighteen
with Eileen (my mam)
who takes the money
and puts it behind the clock on the proverbial
mantelpiece, which keeps going.
Used-To-Be
Tuesday, February 9th, 2010You’re time-expired, you’ve been retired, cold-shouldered from the job-scene,
you’re surplus to requirements, a sad, discarded has-been,
your use-by date has come and gone, you’re on the shelf from this point on,
you see yourself rejected, diminished and demeaned.
the cerse of vurse
Monday, February 8th, 2010terse
short verse
longer the poem
rhyme gets worse
struggling spelling
words need nurse
death of language
remove in hearse
see dave – I can do rhyme 🙂
The Curse of Verse
Sunday, February 7th, 2010For some who choose to sip from the Spring of Hyppocrene
rhyming’s like a virus for which there’s no vaccine;
our poems read like excerpts from traditional pantomime
Beware you would-be wordsmiths, the curse of verse is rhyme
Rhyme’s merely ornamental, a sort of literary glue
fun when writing doggerel or limericks or clerihew
(more…)
cocoon
Sunday, February 7th, 2010I sit here in my cocoon gazing at the football grey February morning. The only sounds are the muffled voices of people outside the envelope punctuated by the occasional thud of ball.
Cars turn up and doors slam. The electrified East Coast line marks one boundary but no trains yet. It is Sunday morning.
From my vantage point I can see the whole pitch. The green of the grass is in noticeable contrast to the otherwise dull winter scene surrounding the ground.