'The pub at the end of the road...' - Your Letters: March 25
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Published
MY MEMORIES OF LOVED PUBS LOST
The pub at the end of the road
Seems to have come to the end of its road
Boarded up and deserted it stands.
But sometimes, I swear
That you can still hear
The muffled murmurings
Of people inside;
The clinking of glass
The ‘clack’ of a domino,
Laughter and cheering
From those who passed long ago;
Ghosts drinking toasts
Haunting old haunts
