A poem by George Forsyth
This year, on the last day of September
A pub belonging to a Union member
Hosted an evening of games and fun
When, by The Backgammon Club, it was overrun.
We were at the 17th century Lantern Inn
Which came with ghosts, resident within.
Our host was the lovely Andy Blake
And places on the backgammon ladder was what was at stake.
Tim and Derek and Andy and James
Were all in the mood to play some games
And so were Jerry and George and the only girl, Brenda,
Who had glasses of Amaretto on her agenda.
None of us held back, when it came to the bar
And the buffet was delicious with Chef Martin the star,
Who, along with Joe, made sure our glasses were always filled
With something that had been brewed or fermented or distilled.
We ate and drank and played games well into the night
With our Skipper, Tim, keeping score, while he was still able to write,
And when, eventually, it was decided that it was time we retired
“We’ll all have a nightcap”, suggested Martin, “that’s what’s required”.
A signature tipple at The Lantern is chilled XO Café
So shots, for all, were poured without delay
But not for Brenda who, of the coffee flavoured tequila was unsure,
So she stuck to a few more glasses of her favourite almond liqueur.
We were all staying at The Lantern, in various locations,
Adhering, more or less, to all the current Covid regulations.
I slept with Cathy, my wife, above the pub, in the flat.
In the second bedroom, was Brenda, in this beautifully restored habitat.
Derek was sensible and went home, which wasn’t too far.
Jerry was in one of the bunks built like a railway couchette car.
And after the nightcaps had done a few rounds
The other boys went off to a yurt, installed in the grounds.
The next morning, breakfast orders were taken,
Delivered in rolls the size of doorsteps and, mostly, involving bacon.
We sat and ate and drank coffee and juice
And mused over the previous night’s brain cell abuse.
James told how he’d called it a night, before he went asunder
And, without anyone knowing, had done a “tactical chunder”.
Tim admitted that, during the night in the yurt, on his mattress on the floor
He’d needed to go out for a wee but he couldn’t find the door.
Eventually he found the exit and fell out onto the grass,
However, from describing the next few minutes, I think we should pass.
The next morning, it took some time before our esteemed Skipper
Could claim that he was feeling suitably chipper.
Later, James kept us laughing when he told us of the time his boat he was towing
Down, through France, to Portugal, but the route he wasn’t knowing,
So he relied on his satnav but in finding the best route it fell a bit short
And James and his boat ended up in an Andorran ski resort.
And that’s the story of the Union Backgammon Club’s stay at The Lantern Inn
A wonderful time so it didn’t matter if, your games, were a loss or a win.
But I’ll remember, specifically, one of my games
Because, finally, at last, I managed to beat James!