Browsing All posts tagged under »Food & Drink Poetry«

One Drop

May 8, 2016

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Not one drop Did I miss Not one drop Did pass my lips Not one drop Of beautiful Guinness But one drop Wouldn’t go amiss… *Note: And yes, I am sure I have had a drink with this Squirrel at some point or three?

A Taste of Home

December 4, 2015

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Oh Ballymaloe more than a food Of emotions do you taste! A tear now does fall This, my Ballymaloe Relish is your call A taste of Ireland true Of home it comes to you Of family, friends it sings Of Dunmanaway, Kinsale, Carrigaline! Oh happy memories In your taste A taste of home And more […]

The Rising Sun

August 2, 2015

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I wrote this in one of my favourite pubs nearby called the Rising Sun, a place you should all visit if in the Hertfordshire area. The Rising Sun where friends do meet And strangers too with tired feet A canal walk, as boats pass by Whilst happy faces laugh and cry The Rising Sun A […]

Ramblings of a Jumbled Mind

October 27, 2014

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One drink, two drinks, three drinks, four Like a conveyor belt they arrive ever more As they go down So the mind does too Into strange places and darkened rooms And then the drunken ramblings start From a crowded mind and a heavy heart These confused thoughts seep from locked rooms Only leaking out in […]

A Poem for Rabbie

January 25, 2014

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Burns Night today oh Rabbie would be proud People will recite and play whisky drank by the crowds Haggis will be eaten galore neeps and tatties even more Scotland will be partying through their pride in their poet true Glenfiddich, Talisker, Dalwhinnie so many will be drank these whiskies Happy faces all around to celebrate […]

Brazen Head Blues

June 30, 2013

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Ahh, he sighs as he sits in the Brazen Head Dublin’s oldest pub where James Joyce drank it’s said Not a far walk from St James’ Gate Where he’s destined for in fate He sits and drinks the black liquid happily Listening to the band play Irish Rover merrily For the tourists and the happy […]

Old Smokey

June 5, 2013

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*Inspired by my many visits to Kinsale in Ireland and the Spaniard pub where I did indeed see an old fisherman come in and cook fresh fish over a roaring fire one October night. My mouth watered as it cooked. Can’t remember if I tried a bit or not but probably did. This old boy […]