At the Lock in Wolverly

at-the-lock-in-wolverly

The Lock, a tree-clad bikers’ pub with ivy grown across oak beams
That sits besides the winding cut from where it stole its name, it seems.
It’s counterpart, with sluicing gates, lifts barges up outside the door.
Here lazy summer nights are spent in drinking beer and eating pork
Pies – there’s none better anywhere. I’ll wager you my hat on that.
Lost deep in darkest Worcestershire, as evening falls it draws the bats
Out of the trees to hunt the wasps that stole our beer to distant sounds
Of wood on willow, gentle clapping, ‘Howzat’ from the cricket grounds.
The leathers squeak, the glasses clink, the jackets are removed from benches,
Bikers snort and kick their wheels and tap exhausts with oily wrenches,
Down a swift half, don their helmets, dimp their roll ups, then roar off
In clouds of blue smoke, haunting ghosts that spread like fungus as you cough.
A hundred beetles disappearing through the rolling sandstone hills.
The temperature begins to fall as shadows climb the windowsills.
Just one more pint and then we’ll leave, and one more pork pie, just for luck.
We’ll walk the towpath home in darkness and hope we don’t fall in the cut.

Advertisements

14 responses to “At the Lock in Wolverly

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Planetary Defense Command

Defending the planet from bad science fiction

blogagaini

story telling with an iPhone

Echoes of the Past

Exploration of the Past

Juliette W Gregson Heritage Photography

Preserving the past for the future....

northumbrian : light

Random thoughts from deepest Northumberland

the hour of soft light...

How do I know what I think until I see what I say? (E.M. Forster)

merleytwister

Blogs by jojohedgehog

WordMusing

world of poetry and spokenword

Gerald's space

Welcome to my world!

Wordifull

...poetry, stories & rants.

Syncopated Eyeball

Creepy Spooky Lovely Nice

The numpty with a camera

Happily capturing moments in life.

%d bloggers like this: