Been a long while since I was back in the city
  (at work)
Must be around two and a half years
The Old haunts... their all haunted now
Pubs I used to visit...frequent and frequently
  get a little bit drunk/tipsy in
I wonder am I still in there drinking still
I feel like if I went in I might see
  myself sitting in some corner there...

My favourite restaurant too where I used to
  eat
Every Friday afternoon with my    
  burger  black coffee and chips
Sitting in the window looking out at the
  world going by, the people passing
Glad to have made it through another week
Glad to have survived, glad to still be alive
I almost expect to see myself sitting there
  now.....

So many have gone, so many have left...
  retired, some even passed away
So many new younger faces around the place
I wonder "Am I too, on my way out"
Wherever I go all I hear are echoes of other
  times
See faces that remind me of someone else
It's like Life is moving relentlessly along
But I've been left behind some place.

I seen a face in the street that looked
  like myself when I was young
I just stood there and watched him disappear
  into the crowd
There's such an unreal ghostly feeling about
  the place
It's so strange coming back after being at
  home alone for so long.

So sod it. We're off to the pub.
The Mrs is putting on lipstick,
The collar is getting a scrub.
I'm all ready to distance
But there is a problem you see?
This two metres malarkey?
British feet and inches for me!
I'll sit at my usual table
And stare at my usual wall
But I'm proud to flick fingers to 'rona
Cos like Boris I've done ****** all.

Mike Bee,
Wandering Free.
My *****’s Pub Sunday Luncheon mate,
With always plenty on his plate.

Then at The Crow’s there’s John and Keith,
Using Sam Smith’s to wash their teeth.
What they don’t know, isn’t worth knowing,
Lots of banter to keep me going.

They call Brian there, “Encyclopaedia”,
With lots of facts, he will feed ya.
He’s so bright cos he’s from Leeds,
And knows his I before E except after Cs.

Paul Butters

I will re-visit
The modern picts,
The viking border people
Comparing *******
And slapping bellies
While giving dheagh shlainte.
They've plundered their last village;
It's been a while since they protected the walls
While sleep sets in.
They raid the pubs,
Raise a glass shield,
Weild a shot glass
Singing shlainte,
The dragon ships have sailed.

Above cushioned wall seats,
Where locals sit with dogs
At their feet,
Hang photos
Of footballers
Smiling still after near-forgotten games;
A farmer stands beside his blue ribbon boar;
Horses tethered to carts,
Near soldiers smiling with
The Republic's grimmace of war.

Outside cobbled streets
Lead to stone bridges
Walls and houses,
Near the shade of umbrella trees.
Turrets stop whispers
Wrapping their heights.

Black, white and fading.

Nine o'clock arrives
And pictures shake
From laughter
And music,
The click of dominoes,
And clink of pints,
In the pub life.