By Mae Woods Bell

A challenge like this accept I must
Forgive the prose if it's not just
Exactly the way it should seem
They did say, "Use a McGonagall theme."

So pen on paper I did use
And wrote this poem for you to peruse
I am sure there's nothing rude
When I write of the fire in Littlewoods.

By Matt Threapleton 25th July 1991

O what have they done to my silvery Tay
They've gone and built a Discovery Quay
They're moving Discovery without all her sails
They may just beach her like Tay's famous whale.
Why don't they keep her beside Unicorn
That lovely old lady who'll soon have back her horn.
Keep them together in Victoria Dock
And save all that trouble with that stupid lock.

Think of the money that will have to be spent
To pay for the upkeep, the staff and the rent
And to go back to old London town
In ten years and ten.

Think of the Unicorn all alone and forlorn
Sitting in Victoria with her big twisted horn
Kept cheerful by a real motley crew
Who spend quite a while in McGonagalls too.

Unknown

We're sorry that we're not so dressed
As normally we really do like to impress
But tomorrow at noon
Which will come far too soon
We'll need all the practice we missed this afternoon.

The cause of this strife
Enough to part man and wife
Is the Moby Dick Dock Race
The time and the place?

At sharp three o'clock
At Victoria Dock
A whale of a time shall be had
The Unicorn, Discovery and Lord Nelson too
Eighteen persons strong (?) will row into view To come to McGonagalls
For one pint or two
And to pot with the diet
We'll have a pea buster too.

Unknown

One day a visit to the society the Bard did pay
And found things not quite his way
Food and drink made him think
Especially the drink
Until he tasted Guinness pure
This made up for the Society's poetry poor
Without the least delusion
He arrived at the conclusion
That pure Guinness was pure genius
Genius for genius
When the Bard was rezdy to be on his way
Mine host offered to pay his day
The fee to be five pounds or there about
To this the Bard expressed some doubt
As it would only buy three and a half pints of his now favoured stout
The fee had to be ten pints of pure Guinness
For the poor Bard genius
Genius for genius
Once the Bard had got his way
He said the Guinness had made his day
And would visit again for another days pay
More genius for genius.

By C.R. and B.C.

Streetcarts made of wood and wheels
Roller-Skates and scooters
Tatty shoes worn at the heels
Three-wheeled bikes with hooters

Postmans-knock, Oh what fun
We never thought a cheek
One sly knock upon a door
And then play hide-and-seek

Picture cards against the wall
Like soldiers on parade
A snipers eye-flick made some fall
while others upright stayed

Winter snow-balls thrown and rolled
Springtime fairgrounds whirl and fly
Summer boats remote controlled
Autumn kites all soaring high

Catch a bus to hampstead Heath
A Viking ship bright red
Protective shield with sword and sheath
We'd battle till the foe were dead

The train to Southend-by-the-sea
Was like a trip abroad
Our time was just like one big spree
We never did get bored

With no TV or Video
Computers and the like
Only street games years ago
Were our souls delight.

By Bob Bedwell 1995.

Have you got a light Sir?
A young girl asked
I shook my head with ease
As I walked straight past

"I am the light of the world"
The thought came clear
Just in a whisper
To my ear so near

Yes I do have a light
One from within I knew
But would it be right
To give it to you?

You'd think I was mad
And your man-friend so near
You'd think I was bad
Or at least a bit queer

So fear won the day
Or a missed opportune
Did not even pray
For that lost soul at noon.

By Bob Bedwell 1996.