Stay Home Keep Smiling

Thanks to Sheila Cole for suggesting a more cheerful post from the poets of Wootton Courtenay.

Can the Timberscombe poets do any better????

Cheers for the NHS!

I stood on me driveway a-thumping me drum,
Tumpety! Tumpety! Rum-tum-tum,
Me ‘usband was there and a-ringing ‘is bell,
Tinkety! Tinkety! Raising hell!
I was belting a bucket with my wooden spoon,
Trying to make a spectacular tune,
The NHS we applauded with big hearty cheers,
And Wootton’s so wonderful volunteers!
We heard someone clapping. A welcome support,
But of shouting and cheering there was, frankly, nought!
So I gave one more thump and a hesitant cheer,
Me ‘usband ‘e said: ‘I’m goin’ in for a beer.’
We couldn’t go on ‘cos we felt all alone,
So instead of a cheer we gave a small groan,
Where were you all? Did we do it all right?
Or tell us, kind friends, did we get the wrong night?

Marian Ayres


There has been quite a response to Marian Ayres’ poem ‘Cheers for the NHS!’ yesterday.  This first poem comes from ‘The Rowdy End’:

Around the Brockwell Junction
And up New Road as well,
At 8 o’clock last Thursday night
We created ‘Merry Hell’.

All were out upon their steps
Making such a noise,
We do not care, not one slight jot
For quietness and poise.

We went for it for all we’re worth
With a variety of things,
We wanted to say ‘Thank You’
And to send our noise on wings.

There were claps and whoops and cheering
And a hunting horn to boot,
Saucepan lids and crashing pans,
A shout, a song, a hoot.

The didgeridoo gave low notes,
The whistling woman gave high,
Oh, we said our thank you’s loudly
And sent them to the sky.

So ‘Thank You’ to the carers,
The doctors, nurses too,
The refuse folk, the post people,
This list names just a few.

Our thanks to all the splendid folk,
The Wootton Courtenay task force,
The noble Andy and his team
A job well done, of course!

Next Thursday keep an ear out,
Or two if you can spare,
So you won’t miss our rumpus
Giving THANKS for all who care!

Then we received this response from ‘Central Village’:

In response to your little ditty,
Which we admit was rather witty,
Yet so far from the truth…
The centre of the village raised the roof.
With the Old School bell ringing,
Scaffold pipes a-dinging,
Oil drums a-tapping,
And so many hands a-clapping.
It’s hard to think you didn’t hear,
Perhaps you have a blocked ear?
On Friday night it was more mellow,
With Marcus playing on his cello
Joining Bishop Brian’s doorstep band
Playing ‘Ode to Joy’ by Beethoven’s hand.
So let’s put this rumour to rest –
The noise from Central was SIMPLY THE BEST!
Our rousing applause was mighty fine
To thank the workers on the front line.

Not forgetting this ode from Ruth Walker:

On Thursday nights as from week one,
In Lower Town we’ve banged our drum,
With spoons and pans
And Tony’s large hands
We’ve raised the roofs
Cheering frontline troops.
The NHS, the carers too,
Delivery drivers and postmen two,
Grocers, checkout and online staff,
We’ve honoured them all from our door or our path.
We’ve heard little here from the rest of the town,
Despite our cheers since the big lockdown.
So come on all, let’s give more welly,
So we can hear each other from every dwelley!

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