The Village – A Story in Eight Pieces

V. The Sun Inn

Amber’s the Ale, the brewery’s best,
Poured by the Barmaid, a magnificent chest.

The Cider’s refreshing; the girls drink in sips;
While Tom’s Dog goes begging for peanuts and chips.

‘Ere is young Emma who always wears clogs,
And sits by the Fire, made up with good logs.

All the fine Glass is so sparkling and clear,
And still we’ve the Hat, which was left here last year.

Ice is in cubes – no, not in my beer!
There’s a jang-e-ly jukebox we wish wasn’t here.

Cute is yon Katy whose hair is dyed pink,
Thus deceiving the Lager that only poofs drink.

There’s food on the Menu, good pies do abound,
While Nuts is the cat who’s always around.

There is Old Arthur, still sucking his pipe,
And Polly, Stan’s Parrot, who’s language is ripe.

Lend me a Quid, I need five for a beer,
And top up Miss Rosie, who’s everyone’s dear.

The Snug at the back’s where the old ‘uns hold court,
Draining the Tankards which each of them brought.

There’s yeuchy Urinals where water we pass,
After drinking the Vino, that’s sold by the glass.

Wee is the Widow, still hearty and hale,
Sipping her 5X, a lovely strong ale.

The Young and the Yoof, so noisy and loud,
Still treasure Zog, our mascot, so proud.