As a prelude to plans for a new St George’s Poem Book later this year, ready for sale at Christmas, we are running a series of extracts from previous Poem Books - hopefully encouraging inspiration for contributions to the new book! The forthcoming Poem Book is to be entitled Poems from Isolation - send your poems to Jane Rice Oxley - j.rice-oxley@stgeorges.church
The Ramble
Did you go on the ramble? So did I,
A lovely day with a clear blue sky,
We set off from Hambledon Church at noon
With maps supplied by Ruby and June.
With dogs on the scent, we climbed the track
Andrew counted us out, then he counted us back,
With Chris and her stick ahead of the file
We spread out behind for nearly a mile.
We wondered in passing what had happened to Doug
We guessed him at home with his feet on a rug.
The Vicar was sorry, he said he can’t come
He’d a long standing date to have tea with his Mum.
We came out of the woods and could just see the sea
The views were quite something, I think you’ll agree.
Little villages nestled in valleys below
Signposts pointed the way we should go.
Stephen and John shared a Walkman for two
So kept close together the whole walk through,
Shoulder to shoulder for mile after mile
Nearly head over heels when they came to a stile.
We travelled on further across field and o’er road
In some of the youngsters the tiredness showed.
But nearing the pub we all felt much fitter
At the thought of a pint of Usher best bitter.
The pub was quite packed, the bar one long queue
But that wasn’t as bad as the one for the loo.
But soon we were served and went out on the green
To admire the sheer style of the family Dinneen.
We were pestered at lunch by a sad looking mule
As we sat on the grass and tried to keep cool.
Picnics were opened in cordial mood
Whilst the Handys indulged in Italian food.
The Curate had joined us by driving his car
To meet at the pub and enjoy a quick jar.
With so many gathered, so hale and so hearty
It resembled the scenes at the Epiphany party.
At around 2 o’clock the landlord called time
So we set off in force to begin the steep climb.
We retraced our steps on the Wayfarers Way
To complete the 7 miles of walking that day.
28 April 1985
Tony Rice-Oxley
An Ex-Commuter’s Lament
A million commuters rushing headlong for their train,
With scowls upon their faces they all jollity disdain.
With brollies curled upon their arm, at crack of dawn each day,
Oh to hell with London’s Business World, I’m glad I got away!
And irritated passengers on smoky buses masked
By gloomy headlined papers, that their scanning eyes too fast
Accumulate all details of the Stock Exchange today,
Oh to hell with London’s Business World, I’m glad I got away!
Each day progresses with great zest, until the evening tide.
When brollies curled on arms once more, they take the homeward ride.
Like sardines packed in airless tube, strap-hanging all the way.
Oh to hell with London’s Business World, I’m glad I got away.
But I once was a part of this, and loved it all I know.
The bustling and the hurrying, and the jostling to and fro.
Until one day I cried, “No more!” And sanity held sway.
Oh to hell with London’s Business World, I’m glad I got away!
And now the seven-ten pulls in at our small country track.
The doors are slammed, the flood pours through, the Business men are back.
I raise my head from quiet calm, a wistful smile betray -
Oh to hell with London’s Business World, I’m glad I got away!
Janet Johnson
