A pub with no beer

I was fortunate enough, through the good offices of Alcohol Change Cymru (UK)  to be able to assist with organising a second alcohol free beer festival in Fishguard and Goodwick as part of Dry January 2020. There is a formal report available via the charity

 And here is the poem I wrote, as a consequence of the festival. CHEERS!

Can you find good cheer

In a pub with no beer?

Does the very thought of alcohol-free

Leave you weak at the knees?

Or do such options give choice

To an alternative voice?

Could you go Without

Try a Big Drop stout?

Would people really stop and stare

As you quaff your Drop Bear?

Or you might not reject Brooklyn’s Special Effect.

Would a Sheppy’s low alcohol cider

Truly make you an outsider?

Or a bottle of Stowford Press

Will surely impress.

Perhaps a Super Bock

Makes for a pleasant shock.

If you’ve rejected the rest

Maybe a Sussex Best

Could leave you feeling quite blessed

Or an Infinite Sessions IPA

Absolutely make your day?

Sam Brown’s, still in play

And there’s Leeds Brewery OPA

To help your along

A stumble-free way.

And if Italy’s more your thing

Well, ciao! Shout out!

Peroni and Moretti have zeroed out

And can make your heart sing.

Truth be told

Whatever’s your thing

If it’s a day without booze

That feels like good news


Or no danger of the handover

Of your set of car keys….

The liberty Of a non-drunken spree

Geared up by Tesco low alcohol G and T

Then hey! And Yay!

The pub with no beer

Can offer good cheer!

Seems there’s always room for thinking

About different ways of drinking

My Columbine Valentine. For H B-C-M

This poem was made at sea. A year ago now, but the sentiments expressed are before, contemporary and beyond. It’s all for you. Thank you. From the heart.

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My seaside Valentine

If I could choose

Just one

Moment in time

To take ahead with me

Into unfathomable eternity

Governed by uncertain deity


It would be

Standing Forward

Bedecked by you

( and, in my mind’s eye,

two ghost dogs

standing by)

On our voyage sublime

Watching the watery world slide by

The Pacific, painted by

Glacial blues


Gelato cream confusion

Melting into the black mirrored swell

As scimitar shaped birds

Slice the crested waves

Balletic marine fencers

Weaving, careening and

En Garde!


The ocean’s ceaselessly hungering mouth

Restless, inscrutable, immutable

Breathing, deep water scheming

Its owners have

But scant regard

for our lumbering vessel –

Man made iron muscle –

Outflanked and bested

By shearwater and petrel

Undone by dolphin and iridescent Dorado.

It is as though we were

Tipping over the Equator

Outstripping day and date

Adventuring, ever southwards

Our ship in full spate

Speed baffling knots

Nautical miles

Our beating hearts rate.



This would be the moment I’d choose to take.



and I

Yours and mine




To be specific

My salt spray adored

My seaside companion

My maritime best friend

My own worlds end

My sweetwater , Columbine







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