The Coat in the Corner
On a long, narrow road that lead out of town
There stands and old public house, the old Rose and Crown
Used by many for many a year
For the genial conversation the Whisky and Beer
Old Mavis the barmaid now long past her best
Still has a great smile and rapport with each guest
Jim Inchcliff, the Landlord has seen them all come and go
Those who for years had struggled through the deep winter Snow
Just to partake a Real Ale and an old stale Pork Pie
That seemed to have been on the bar for many a blink of an eye
Old Rover, Jim’s dog, must be twenty years old or more
Who hardy ever moved seemed stuck to the floor
The old sign creaked when the strong wind did blow
What with that and the noise from the resident Black Crow
Who lived in the eaves and had nested there for years
And had seen all the comes and goings, the laughter and tears
But the strangest situation that no one could fathom out
Was in the old Snug Bar, amongst the Brown Ale and Stout
For over in the corner was an old khaki army coat
That belonged to old Barney the right reverend Stoat
Who had been Vicar of the Parish for over year’s five score and ten
Who disappeared suddenly one dark stormy night?
In the wind and the hail that gave everyone a fright
Such was its ferocity with trees falling down
Making it impossible to drive cars in or out of town
The rain was lashing, river swelled up, broke its banks
Flowing freely like water escaping from tanks
Causing a local mine to capsize underground trapping men deep below
Were they alive or dead, it was hard to know
Rescue teams worked all through the night and next day
Saving many as they could, though a few perished away
Now old Barney may have been the town vicar but unbeknown to all
Was in fact a war hero in both wars you know a man who stood tall
No stranger to danger so rushed to the Miners aid
To offer what assistance he could while the wives wept and prayed
No one realised that he had gone down with the rescue teams
As the water rushed in bringing down the large heavy beams
That propped up the pit face, to keep them safe from harm
But now was disintegrating causing great alarm
However, the rescue was completed and thankfully everyone survived
Or so everyone thought until they realised one had died
The poor vicar had given his life to help those in need
And no one ever forgot the Reverends brave deed
That is why the old coat hangs in pride of place
Over in the corner by the big fireplace
Nobody has wanted to remove it as a mark of respect for one who died
Trying to save others whose name was always talked about with pride
So if you travel to Old Romney a town of note
Always remember, never to remove that old coat
From that bar where it’s been for many a year
For it’s a sign to others of what unselfish, real heroes are so just shed a tear
McCaffrey
McCaffrey, a champion golfer in his own mind
All bluster and bullshit, you know the kind
Like the fisherman who’s big one’s always got away
He will never change, even at the end of the day
One-day last autumn, maybe at the end of the summer
Anyway, for McCaffrey it turned out to be a bummer
Playing eighteen holes in the championship match
Tried to look good playing off scratch
Everything went smoothly out on the first nine
Holed out the thirty six in thirty nine
Out on the tenth all went to pot
He hit a large Kangaroo with his driving shot
Retrieving the ball was a bit of a disaster
The Roo decided to show him who was the master
Up with his legs, catches McCaffrey off balance, and unsteady
When he should have been aware of the danger, been at the ready
A painful kick in the groin had the golfer down for the count
As the Kangaroo hoped off over a nearby grass, mount
McCaffrey now seething got into deep stress
How he finished eighteen holes is anybody’s guess
In the nineteenth hole, consuming drink like it was going out of fashion
Well oiled at closing time a home he went dashing
A cut across the course, striding out nicely, though a dark night
Tripped and fell into a bunker and went out like a light
The Ladies foursome the next morning, teed off at nine
A bright sunny day, everything fine
Arrived at the tenth, driver in hand had she
Mrs Montgomery walked up to the tee
With a good whack from her right hand, the ball was sent aloft
Came down with her ego, it fell in the bunker sand
A loud scream erupted and all heard around the course
A mouthful of expletives greeted the women as McCaffrey crawled out in full force
Mrs Montgomery as bad tempered as he
Took a swipe with a number nine iron right onto his knee
Swearing and cursing McCaffrey sloped away
Fortunately for him to fight another day
Nursing his ego, his groin and his knee
Arrived home hoping to get sympathy, and a nice cup of tee
But Mrs McCaffrey was waiting, and whack, McCaffrey had another bruise
With her frying pan in hand had no time for any excuse
Not impressed at all at her husbands night out
Her heading still aching, then there was the gout
From all the wine consumed the night before
For the rest of the day McCaffrey was ill, and felt rather sore
Billy the Milkman
All smiles and talk
Went to work with a happy face
Bringing joy each place he would walk
Collecting bottles from the milk float
At five am every day
Out on his rounds
He went out on his way
Driving the streets so early
Up with the Lark
Who is chirping and chattering
As he flies around in the dark
Somewhere in the distance
A dog barks, quite a din
Where, at his first customer Mr Jones
Is having a lie in
Clink clank, go the bottles
As Billy walks up the path to the house
Trying to be silent
Like the proverbial Mouse
Delivering his quota of milk
To everyone on his round
Is his expectation
As his feet he does pound
Running between houses
So to finish as quick, as he can
He bring Milk, Loaves and Butter
And the odd small fruit juice or two
To keep his customers happy
There is nothing he will not do
But one Friday morning
As he had nearly finished his round
Someone crept up behind him
Not making a sound
He was grabbed around the neck
Heard, your money or your life
Realising he was being robbed
His first thoughts, were for his kids and his wife
As the attacker tried to steal his money pouch
Which, was attached to his waist rather tightly
So as to safeguard the money he collected
Throughout, the early morning light
He thought to himself
I will not be robbed at knife point today
He brought back his head
And his arm released Billy
Almost straight away
Old Mrs Sullivan
Out walking her dog
As she did in all weathers
Come Rain, Snow or Fog
Had seen what was happening to Billy
And picked a piece of wood
And hit the attacker on the side of his head
As hard as she could
Down he went moaning
Stunned and distraught
As P C Maguire arrived
The thief was well and truly caught
Billy was indebted to Mrs Sullivan
For her assistance when it mattered
And for the next hour or so
Over tea they just chattered
But Billy suddenly remembered
He still had his round to conclude
It had been an eventful morning
With the villain complexly subdued
And on his way to the police station With P C Maguire
But Billy still had to deliver his Milk, and his food
On reaching the Dairy at the finish of his day
To the cheers from his colleagues
He went on to say
You never realise the friends that you make
As every morning you wend your merry way
Smiling and laughing with his patrons
Making a bright start to their morning lives
Saying good morning Mr So and so
And smiling at their wives
A simple man Billy may be
But he touches many people’s hearts its true
And brings a smile and goodwill to everyone
He meets in the darkened morning hue