Black Country Bugle

Ballad of the Lonesome Pen


Early September when nights were long Aspiring authors did come along To write a short story, a poem or verse To tell a joke, they weren’t averse.

Our teacher Chris is quite laid back Marking our work would make a saint crack Liz is a teacher of English, it’s plain She often corrects Chris, again and again.

Bob we know is really quite pukka In spite of alluding to a Turkish hookah! Sybil is determined to aim very high Despite being puzzled between ‘attempt’ and ‘try.’

An aversion at first to reading out Now Julie is the first one to spout Theresa we know is an Essex gal Since moving Up Norf she’s made many a pal.

by Bob Broadfield

Rob we think is a strange kind of fella Whose sole ambition is to get published in Bella John says he’s read all the Bank Robbery books So expect a dossier on well-known crooks.

And Mike, despite absence, does really graft What was that noise? It was Mike, he just laughed. Discussing the hook, the plot and the tag The Three Musketeers go out for a fag.

But if our writing be long forgot I hope the Class of ’96 will not.

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