We’ve all got a story or seven in here.
Pull up a chair, and pull back your ears.
There’s something to learn from the folks who stop in
for five minutes’ peace, a laugh and a grin;
every day for a pint or a break or a chat,
for a moment to sit with a dog on their lap.

The brickies, the lads, the scaffolders too,
the old folk and young, all part of our crew.
They come looking for Dad; they know he’ll be here,
whiling away the day with a beer.
They come looking for company, to get out of the rain;
they come for nostalgia, to feel young again.

I’ve heard it all from my place at the bar.
We’re all bards and poets, performers and stars.
Telling a tale and setting the scene,
sharing the places and faces we’ve seen.
The wisdom, the jokes, the ups and the downs;
the actors, the speakers, the mimes and the clowns.

In the chaos of life, and the swiftness of time,
we’re here for them all: at their worst, in their prime.
It’s the people that make us, the love and the loss:
the ones we admire, who show us who’s boss,
the ones we look after, who look after us,
and the ones always there, with never a fuss.

This place is family, and this place is home.
When you come in here, you’re one of our own.
I’m welcoming you to this local of ours
for a minute, a day or a couple of hours.
Now don’t hang about – come and learn something new.
This pub is mine, and now it’s yours, too.

By Jo Fisher