Brookfield Lane Allotment Show

I’m struggling with the dreaded block at the moment, so any chance to pen some verse has to be jumped at. I left it very late to start it, but here’s the resulting ditty. It’s knobbly and imperfect, just like my veg., but still went down fairly well with those present, unlike my…

Brookfield Lane Allotment Show

20th. of August, and I have to go.

It’s time for Brookfield Lane Allotment Show.

We plot holders gathered here at St. Paul’s,

this morning brought entries and set out our stalls

to display this year’s produce and show our prowess.

(Who the winners will be isn’t too hard to guess).

Courgettes, beans, carrots, the perfect sweet pea:

I’m just taking part. It’s clearly not me!

Jellies and jams, maybe in with a shout,

but participation is what it’s about.


Those cakes! They’re to die for. Bring on the auction.

My sweet tooth says, “Buy me at least one concoction”.

But before we get round to making our bids,

the judge reads the winners, grown-ups and kids

and finishing off with a quiz and a raffle.

(It’s a bottle of wine I’m hoping to snaffle)

Then one final highlight to round off the Show:

Pat’s famous hot pie of meat and potato.

Jane, Mick and Graham, Bob, Casey and John:

a big thanks to you all! Another year gone!


For Mavis

On 6th. August, my cousin-in-law, Mavis Richardson, was the centre of attention at a surprise “special birthday” party organised for her with something approaching military precision by husband, John (who my family all knew as “Barry” for reasons lost in the mists of the mid-20th. century). Pizzeria Venezia, Rushden, provided the setting “simpàtico”, excellent food (cozze picante, pollo valdestano and tiramisu in my case) and rivers of Perroni and wine. Friends and family did the rest to make the evening memorable despite the latter. Not one to pass over the chance to mark the occasion in verse (especially in the throes of the dreaded block)…

For Mavis

It’s the glorious 6th. and here we all are.

We’ve travelled from nearby. We’ve come from afar.

For Mavis’ BIG birthday, we’ve hatched a surprise.

We’ve dolled up and dressed up. Some even wear ties.

Now we’re waiting to see the look on her face,

when she steps through the door and finds us in place,

all gathered to greet her and raise a great cheer

and toast her BIG birthday in vino and beer

and as into pizzas and pasta we tuck,

it’s “Best birthday wishes to Mavis, me duck.”