The Parish Church of St George the Martyr, Waterlooville

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Continuing our series of extracts from past editions of St George’s Book of Poems…..


Autumn Edition 2013

St George’s Book of Poems

On Television

What is this life if we can spare

No time, except to sit and stare.


No time to visit friends and chat

Of time gone by, of this and that.


No time for charities or church,

For chess, or physical research.


No time for pubs or politics,

For picnics or for party tricks.


No time to read or sew or knit,

For carpentry or keeping fit.


No time to swim or learn to fly,

For music, books or DIY.


A poor life this if we can spare

No time, except to sit and stare.

W.G.Hutchings

St George’s Drink Group

St George’s have a little Link,

They really are quite merry,

They meet fortnightly to discuss

The benefits of Sherry.


This little Link is rather small,

Though more in size that posture,
You’ll often find them gathered round

An open can of Fosters.


One leader, Lesley, is often thought

To be a little meanie

But we all know how to get round her -

With lemon, Gin and Gini.


Lisa keeps us entertained

With all her nursing jokes.

The censored ones come later,

After several Rum and Cokes.


Our menfolk dance in pantomimes

Which sometimes are quite risqué,

But only when they’re fortified with

Hip flasks full of Whisky.


The girlies, they are never drunk,

But when they’re feeling queer,

They need to be revived again

With many pints of Beer.


For those who are not yet of age

We really must be strict.

We’ll sort them out with fake ID’s

To ensure that they’re not nicked.


The rest are fairly normal

As far as normal goes.

Except for Craig and David

When they’re at the Hampshire Rose.


You may think that we drink a lot,

It isn’t really true.

We only made the whole thing up

To bring a smile to you.


St George’s Link Group

Je Suis Dans Mon Lit

There once was a vicar called Fred,

Who spent all his time in a shed,

Where he blew up balloons and sang funny tunes,

And preached to his flock from his bed.


Arthur E Green