18/06/2026
The Village Club
Down winding lanes where tractors crawl,
And everyone knows everyone at all,
There stands a pub, a club, a bar—
The social heart, not near, but far.
Where Doris tells the same old tale,
And Bob still claims he never fails
At darts, though everyone can see
He missed the board by half a tree!
The raffle prizes raise a grin,
A tin of beans, a bottle of gin,
A mystery box, a fruitcake dense,
Worth roughly forty-seven pence.
The village club’s a special place,
Where laughter echoes through the space,
With bingo calls and karaoke nights,
And singers reaching questionable heights.
But times are hard for pubs these days,
As folk stay home in countless ways.
Streaming films and scrolling phones
Can’t match a chat with real-life groans.
For where else can you share the news,
Debate the weather, football, brews,
Or hear old Fred, with great delight,
Explain how summers were more bright?
The village pub, the social club,
Need more than just an occasional rub.
They need the locals through the door,
To buy a drink and maybe more.
So raise a glass and lend support,
For these fine places oughtn’t abort.
Because when village pubs and clubs have gone,
You’ll miss them far more than you thought upon.
For bricks and beams are not the key,
It’s friendship, laughter, community.
And once the “Last Orders” bell has rung,
You’ll wish you’d joined the village fun!
🫣😅😅🤠🤠🥰🥰🍻🍻🍻🙌🙌🙌🤪🤪🤪
