Poets' Christmas

Feeling somewhat sluggish, with an aching arm, caused by the shingles jab. Lorraine off to rhyme time. I did a spot of writing first thing. A after a light lunch I took the train to Brighton for a futile shopping expedition, followed another in Lewes. At four o'clock, rainsoaked and tired, I retreated to a cafe for a large coffee, and a read of a book of historical Beano front covers in full colour, that I had bought early in Seaford Post Office for a ridiculous £2.95.

Repaired, I made off to the Lewes Arms to meet poet friends. SJB, Charlotte, Stephen and Robin. A cheery drink for a couple of hours, with the usual mixture of banter and poetry. I like being with my tribe. Towards the end of our session, Christmas carollers came into the small bar, and began singing. People, talking loudly to compete. Charlotte had to go as it was making her feel claustrophobic. Just as everyone was leaving, the singers asked me if there was a carol I liked, and I said Silent night. I sat there listening, very happy to linger over my last half, as my poet pals melted away.

Home soon enough as I only had a ten minute wait for the Seaford train. Back boofing happily onto the gold sofa before eight. 

Below SJB, Charlotte, Stephen, me looking weird and apple cheeked, and Robin. Below that some of the singers, having cleared the bar.