[FOsen]

Good one, John - but it strikes me this topic is what I'm going to christen a "Nether Wallop Oak Dibblet" - so English, we furners won't stand a chance.

Frank

[Lance Levens]

The Old Corner Shop

(The Hitchcock Version)

How I recall the old corner shop
where Mr. Repressed could murder a chop
and Mrs. Gossip fondled your greens
then sneered at your disheveled teens.
And let's not omit Mr. Know-It-All,
who told you weekly the market would fall,
and Mrs.Toute Suite--she'd been to France--
or so she reiterated in rants.
Her comrade, Mrs. Stella de Chic,
wore a different perfume for every week.
She made your kiddies point and giggle,
but her skin-tight dress and wanton wiggle,
not to mention her roving eye
that caressed every man with a mind to buy,
caused the poor butcher's gaze to linger
and someone to grin as he chopped off his finger.

[Orwn Acra]

A bit wobbly in the middle, but a great poem, Lance.

[Roger Slater]

The Corner Shop

There used to be a corner shop
where every day I'd go
to buy my paper. and I'd stop
to chat with folks I know.

But now the corner shop is gone
and I don't need to get
the paper since I'm always on
the office internet.

And I don't need the corner shop
to chat with friends of mine.
We hang out pretty much non-stop
whenever we're online.

[Martin Parker]

Our late 1940s corner shop is now run by Mr and Mrs Patel. So, as a quick first draft --

Bargains piled upon the counter --
broken biscuits in a bin,
cans of soup with missing labels,
names hand-written on each tin;
sugar mice, their noses missing,
thick wool socks for outsize feet,
curry powder (much too daring!),
no-one used it down our street.
Smell of coffee and carbolic,
soapflakes, sugar, cheese and tea
mingling with the pink-scrubbed scent
of Brylcreemed errand boys like me.

Long-gone faces haunt the shop now
where, behind the soulless hurry
of its shrink-wrapped, smell-free neatness,
hangs a homely waft -- of curry.

[David Anthony]

What a lovely, moving poem, Martin.
It will play on a broader platform than The Oldie, I think.
Best regards,
David

[Lance Levens]

Yours is too good for the Oldie, Martin, as David points out.