Down the Sweet Shop
The little corner shop
full of special treats
Chocolate, bottles of Pop,
and jars and jars of sweets.
With pocket money in hand
given to me by my Dad
sometimes a little bit extra
if he heard I'd been a good lad.
I really loved that little shop
it was every young boys dream
you could get everything you'd want
Football Cards, Toys, and Ice-Cream.
My dad used the shop as well
he'd pop in to buy his fags
and Mum did her weekly shop
she'd get me to help her with the bags.
Then along came the big supermarket
the little shop began to lose it's trade
so sadly it had to close it's doors
an end of an era again I'm afraid.
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poem by Kevin Halls
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When it rains it pours
Rain is a strange thing
when you want it
it never comes,
and when you don't
it arrives in bucket loads.
Like at a barbecue
it will put a stop to that,
but you need it for your plants
so you won't get none for weeks.
You go out in just a t.shirt
and you get soaking wet,
but the weatherman said
it will stay dry all day.
I wonder if the weather people
told Noah it wasn't going to rain?
Don't worry I bet they said,
just the odd shower possible.
Rain stops sporting events
waterlogged pitches,
rain stopped play at Cricket
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poem by Kevin Halls
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Rosettes and Rattles
Towering floodlights shining brightly
a man selling badges and programmes
crowds packed in tightly like sardines
the smell of cigarettes in the air.
One end of the ground is open to the elements
us small kids passed down to the front
as we make a noise with our rattles
this is our football ground in the sixties.
Everyone is wearing a Sky Blue scarf or rosette
cups of hot soup and tea are consumed
the Beatles are being played over the tannoy
Dave Clark Five are feeling Glad All Over.
Bedroom walls are covered in pictures
autograph books are packed full with signatures
programmes are put in empty shoe boxes
kids dreaming of playing for England.
Everyone has a favourite era
and this was definetly mine
as a young lad just being there was magical
a decade gone but never forgotten.
poem by Kevin Halls
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Crazy Mad World
A crazed gunman goes on the rampage
killing innocent people just for fun
young people's lives taken away
when they had hardly just begun.
But this isn't the first time is it
that a maniac has gone mad
are they criminally insane
or are they just born bad?
We may never truly understand
why a person commits such an act
but they keep on happening
and that's not fiction but a fact.
Why does God allow this to happen
so much suffering and despair
we are told he loves us all
but there's misery everywhere.
Then again there's still good about
and in the dark there's always light
but all this hate grinds you down
and it just doesn't seem right.
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poem by Kevin Halls
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The Scarecrow
I've been standing in this field for years
and I tell you I've seen a thing or two
yes I may wear scruffy and tatty clothes
but if you did this job so would you.
I was put here to scare away the birds
but they come no matter how hard I try
I've stood and acted all tough and macho
but Crows still poke me in the eye.
And I confess I do get really frightened
especially when it's dark and cold at night
you get to hear lots of spooky noises
which can give me such an awful fright.
It's a lonely life being a Scarecrow
stuck in a field year after year
sometimes I wish I was a human being
so I could watch the Football and have a beer.
Still at least I've got a full time job
and I'm outside in the fresh air
but I just wish I looked a bit smarter
and someone would come and cut my bloody hair!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Trolls
THey like to say negative things
and revel in hitting below the belt
their aim is to bring the person down
not caring at all how their target felt.
Typing away at their keyboards
they love to be nasty and snide
their aim is to knock your confidence
behind anonymity they creep and hide.
They get a kick out of being vile
it seems to really make their day
their aim is to stop you being creative
and mind games they just love to play.
These people like to call themselves Trolls
who go on social networks just to abuse
their aim is not to encourage or uplift
but to bring misery to whoever they choose.
But remember a Troll is a cave dwelling creature
living deep down in the dark and the cold and wet
and that's where all these type truly belong
away from decent human beings and the Internet!
poem by Kevin Halls
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Discarded Lines From Famous Poems
I wandered lonely as a cloud
that floated on high o'er vales
and hills, when all at once I saw a
crowd of football hooligans so I legged it.
What is this life if full of care,
we have no time to stand and stare,
because the stewards make us sit down.
Solomon Grundy
born on a Monday
christened on a Tuesday
supported Sheffield Wednesday.
The Owl and the Pussycat went to sea
in a beautiful pea-green boat
they took some honey, and plenty of money,
because mascots weren't allowed on the coach.
If you can keep your head when all about you
are losing theirs, and blaming it on you,
if you can trust yourself when all men doubt you
then you'll make a good manager my son.
All the worlds a stage,
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poem by Kevin Halls
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A Spit And Sawdust Pub
Jukebox on in the corner
a group of lads playing Pool
arrows being thrown at a dartboard
and a drunk acting the fool.
Loads of blokes in football shirts
watching a live game on the T.V.
a woman sipping at her Orange juice
while her partner knocks back Whisky.
Four chaps sit around a table
there playing three card brag
as one of them counts his winnings
the others go outside for a fag.
The pub gets noisier by the hour
words are now slurred due to the drink
some customers are now so drunk
they don't care what anyone may think.
Last orders is shouted out loudly
the landlord wants to call it a night
but before he can close the doors
he has to break up a drunken fight.
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poem by Kevin Halls
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Animals love Football
It's not just us humans who play football
animals love the beautiful game too
they love nothing more than a kickabout
in fact it's the all the rage in the zoo.
Camels like to hump the ball upfield
Swallows and Swifts love to fly down the wing
Sloths like to take their time on the ball
but kingfishers get booked a lot for diving.
Spiders are good at the offside trap
Cobra's are deadly in a striking role
Crocodiles snap up all the crosses
but Foxes love to play in the hole.
Monkeys like to swing the ball around
Badgers and Bats prefer to play at night
Giraffes are good with very high balls
and Kangaroos are always up for a fight.
Pigs and Hippos love it when it's muddy
but Polar Bears like a pitch covered in ice
Owls are happy with any type of surface
as long as they can mark Voles and Mice!
poem by Kevin Halls
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After the match
Final whistle has been blown
yet another loss and a defeat
our fans head home miserable
heads bowed walking down the street.
Some have to stand in a queue for a bus
others walk or drive off in their cars
a few stand talking about the match
while most head off to clubs and bars.
In the pub fans discuss missed chances
and moan about the very poor referee
some say they won't be coming again
and wouldn't watch them even if it was free.
But the long suffering supporter says nothing
just sits quietly drinking his pint of beer
he's listened and heard it all so many times
season after season and year after year.
He'll be back for the next game once again
hoping and praying that his team don't get beat
but whatever the result at the end of the match
he'll keep on watching his team in his usual seat.
poem by Kevin Halls
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