I miss the days when pubs were smokey,
Community spirited, parochially pokey,

Where people went to socialise,
And contradict politician’s lies,

The only phone was on the wall,
Copper coins the cost to call,

When drinking didn’t cost the earth,
And no one cared about net worth,

The working classes huddled together,
To contemplate their earthly tether,

Cosy corners, open fires,
Heated debate that only requires…

A group of like minds around a table,
Replete with legend, myth and fable,

Drunken souls pontificating,
Hen pecked husbands procrastinating,

Irate punters gesticulating
Pseudo philosophers ruminating,

The pub is gone and where it stood,
Is a sterile shop and I wish I could…

Bring it back for just one day,
To sit and while my cares away.