Chris Eley

Our Town 19
On Commercial Road, a father and son
Share a private joke, giggling together,
Grasping a shared moment of joy.

Our Town 18
The man in shorts looks like
The last surviving member
Of a 60s that had two hits
And once supported Jimi Hendrix

Our Town 17
Mothers' Day has gone terribly wrong.
Outside Fabio's, a dad is lecturing his son
On the finer points of table manners.
Bad things happen
When you order pineapple on pizza

Our Town 16
Bespectacled identical twins in pink tutus
Choosing books in Bert's, the joy of reading.
Passing the chapel, I hear the singing,
Confirming that the Devil
Really does have all the best tunes.

Our Town 15
Two planes draw lines
On the cloudless sky,
Aerial calligraphy.

Our Town 14
The smokers huddle outside The Spoon,
Nursing their pints, dressed for a winter war.

Our Town 13
Walking down into town,
I see the familiar Eastcott faces,
Three decades, the usual suspects.
We have grown older together.
Prospect Hill becomes steeper by the year.

Our Town 12
A woman at work in her tiny garden,
Her black cat luxuriating in spring sunshine.
The radio plays Genesis' Afterglow,
Songs of my youth excavating the past,
The peculiar archaeology of memory.

Our Town 11
Fragments of conversation
Overheard in the park.
Apparently, he was a carpenter,
A pretty good one by all accounts
But drinking a bottle of rum a day
Put paid to his career.

Our Town 10
Walking through the Bristol Street tunnel,
A train passes overhead, a minor earthquake,
The earth moves for all of us,
Thinking of generations who trod
This route before me, building the engines
For God's Wonderful Railway.

Our Town 9
Half-term, lunchtime in the pub,
He launches into an interminable monologue
On the state of the teaching of English
At his secondary school.
If it's a first date, I suspect she may
Cancel her subscription to Hinge.

Our Town 8
Shooting on the hills above Wroughton,
The pop, pop, pop of shotguns
Carried to us on the southerly wind
Or perhaps an insurrection in Wichelstowe,
The peasants rising up
To throw off the yoke of serfdom.

Our Town 7
I walk past my old house,
Peer in the window.
It seems like half a life ago,
And it was.
They've done it up nicely.

Our Town 6
Two young lovers occupy a bench.
I suspect that their parents disapprove,
The age old story

Our Town 5
A man is having an impassioned debate
With himself, on foreign aid policy, in song.
I am tempted to add a verse on
The difference between hard and soft power
But restrain myself.

Aside from dunk, I have a soft spot for Norman Gall, loved Eric Young, Mark Lawrenson and, of course, Steve Foster

Chris Cattlin

Peter Grummitt

Our Town 4
Down by the Town Hall,
The Christmas tree is gone,
Felled, just the stump remains.
The resident drunk is chattering
Ten to the dozen, like a Kerouac novel,
A stream of consciousness
Only marginally less coherent.

Our Town 3
A man in shorts and flip-flops
Gets grumpy that the self-service check-out,
Clearly marked card only
Won't take his cash.
Given the choice of clothing for the weather,
I'm not surprised that his judgement is poor.

4. Life can seem a trifle unfair
When you run out of Camembert
But go down to the shops
And buy a big box
And you'll be happy I swear

3. Stilton is stinky and blue
It may not be the cheese for you
But I think you ought
To try it with port
And I hope then You'll like it too

2. Cheddar is England's supreme,
Of the cheese crop, it is the cream.
Ben Gunn liked it most
Grilled on some toast
But that was only a dream

To address this gap, four limericks on cheese
1. I do like a nice ripe brie
Spread on a cracker of three
For a really good time
Add a glass of red wine
But then you won't need your tea

Our Town 2
Snows brief visit is over so quickly.
The day is greying itself to dusk and rain.
A small child in a red suit aquaplanes
Through the puddles by the bandstand.
Those trousers are going to need a wash.

Our town 1
New Year’s Eve, collecting a Chinese,
A neighbour runs past in hi-vis,
Her red light blinking
Like a low flying aircraft.
The revellers wander past,
Aftershave wafting like a sixth form disco

And well worth the somewhat extended wait

Monty Python fish slapping dance

we shouldn't let a small friendly fire mishap spoil our day

For my first post here, being a #BHAFC fan 2 up with 10 to go is like the bowl of petunias in the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, "oh no, not again"