I told Chat GTP to ‘Write a poem about, the Hungry Horse Folk Club,
meeting on Thursdays to listen to folk singers and poets’.
This is what it came up with.....


At the Hungry Horse Folk Club,
On a Thursday night,
The air is thick with stories,
And melodies take flight.

Gathered in a circle,
The crowd is hushed and still,
As the first singer takes the stage,
And begins to strum and trill.

Their voice is rich and lilting,
And the guitar strings hum,
As the audience is transported,
To a world that's just begun.

Next up is a poet,
Whose words are sharp and clear,
They speak of love and loss,
And the truths that we hold dear.

Their voice is a symphony,
Of rhymes and rhythms too,
As the crowd is spellbound,
And the night feels bright and new.

The music fills the room,
And the poetry does too,
As the Hungry Horse Folk Club,
Becomes a haven for the true.

For here is where the dreamers,
And the storytellers meet,
To share their tales and ballads,
And the music that's so sweet.

And when the night is over,
And the last chord is played,
The crowd disperses slowly,
Their hearts forever swayed.

For the Hungry Horse Folk Club,
Is a place of magic and wonder,
Where the songs and poems mingle,
And the stories never sunder.