Meet Up Mondays at The Greyhound pub in Ipswich

Meet Up Mondays has been a great success. The pub is busy on Monday mornings with folks who might otherwise be lonely. They can come in and enjoy some free coffee and snacks, and good company.

One of our regular Meet Up Mondays guests, Alex, loves attending with his gorgeous dog, Jessie and submitted this poem. It’s a lovely summary of what Meet Up Mondays means to everyone, and we couldn’t be happier with the way the programme has been received. There’s even a Meet Up Mondays Book Club, now, and we have some outings in the planning.

Here’s Alex’ poem – and if you’d like to attend yourself, turn up on Mondays between 10am and 11.30am or get in touch with the pub for more info. There’s also more about it in this post.

It’s Monday morning once again,
As Alex and Jessie bowl up the lane.
Where are they going in such haste,
As if there is no time to waste?

10 o’clock is the clue
An inn – the Greyhound – the venue.
They open the door and enter in
And treat themselves to a bottle of gin.

It’s wonderful to be back here,
To see happy faces full of cheer.
Gathered in camaraderie,
There’s nowhere else they’d rather be.

Along comes Sue, resplendent in green,
She really is the culinary queen.
Cakes and scones, Sue’s made them all,
Fortnum and Mason should give her a call.

And that’s not all the delights available,
There’s tea and coffee on the table.
Jessie also gets a treat,
A sausage roll is hard to beat.

As people chat and pass the time,
We mustn’t forget the daily rhyme.
Ken, our orator, has a book,
Opens the page and takes a look.

Every week a different tale,
Often of his days on British Rail.
Eyes agleam with inspiration,
Ken launches into his oration.

Someone we forgot to mention!
A greyhound agent (silver) takes our attention.
Sitting, elegant, tall and straight
Beside the door he seems to wait.

He is the guardian of the hall,
And the night breed after all.
Watching us without a blink,
But Jessie thought she saw him wink.

All too soon, it’s time to go,
But it’s not a dismal tale of woe.
Our Greyhound whispers “come once more”,
As we pass through the open door.

Thanks, Alex, for allowing us to publish your beautiful poem!