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, 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