The Ghost Of Good Times

A Memory of Wallsend.

I was strolling past a while ago,
This wonderous place we used to go.
When I got this thirst that needed quenched,
So I turned on heel and in I went.

With a feather boas you could've knocked,
me down you see I was so shocked!
Could this really be the place we came
and laughed with girls like Louise Graham?

No juke box lending atmosphere,
just dimmed back light,and awful beer.
Now I've never been a fussy bloke,
But the place looked like it look a stroke.

When contrasted to fun times we had.
this sight beheld made me so sad.
The ghost of good times lingers still,
all that laughter and the cider swilled.

Such Camaraderie and comradeship
all that repartee, those witty quips.
Such a golden time in Wallsend's past,
alas it came and went too fast!

I know things never stay the same,
it's still the Coach, but just in name.
I do not wish to sound unkind,
but I shan't return except in mind!

James Bridgewood
23-3-13