Through the lime green tree tunnels
The road funnels only the lost and the knowing
Flowing along the lanes with old given names
Into this hidden sceptered isle
This country mile
This jewel
This Royal Oak
Ales, tales and the noise of folk
Jokes and overheard mumbling
Tumbling into the evening air
From the head cracking low door
Over beer soaked hardwood floor
Time trickles slow
And what they know is strange
While change upon change; their world stays the same
Full of walkers, talkers, strangers and neighbours
From the garden, by the stream
I dream that Kipling, Blake and Belloc wandered here
To cheer their muse, to de-confuse
And I hope when Kitchener called upon the local lambs
Those luckless lads’ fond memories were of supping upon a draught
When they raised their glass and laughed their last
- Author: emptypot ( Offline)
- Published: July 16th, 2020 15:18
- Comment from author about the poem: I fell into another world when I discovered this pub in Sussex (hence the reference to Belloc, Blake and Kipling). Sadly the pub is now closed and so it was a brief moment in time that I was lucky enough to experience. The last verse might seem a little incongruous but the poem was written around 2013/14 and there was a very deep and sombre feeling in the country about the 100th anniversary of the outbreak of WW1 and I was drawn into the pathetic nature of the naΓ―ve optimism of the young conscripts.
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Comments3
Is this the one in Poynings?
I think your poem describes it well, but so many have those same features. Now I'm hoping for a pint of Harvey's.
Loved how you wove in the literary and military callings. Loved it.- Phil A.
Those pubs were a haven for folk in the past. Good write.
Welcome to MPS.
BRIAN HERE ~ GOOD MORNING *EMPTY POT^ Welcome to MPS it is an excellent proactive site ! Thanks for your first Poem *Ode to An English Pub* - great choice now that LOCKDOWN is partially lifted. A excellent Poem and an apt name *The Royal Oak* ~ Royalty & our National Tree !
Love the nostalgia (V 2) and it is indeed (V 3) a turbulant World ~ but some Pubs defied time. V 4 is haunted by Literary Ghosts & the Ghosts of all those Young Men ~ sacrificed on the Altar of WW1. Dulce et Decorum est ~ Pro Patria Mori ? Please check our site ~ Thanks A & B !
Peace ~ Love & Joy
Brain & Angela πππ
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