Oh how I’ve missed the good old British pub

That bastion of booze and banter, of hearty, proper grub.

The quintessential setting on this island for all that chat and chortle

A welcome haven to preach and prophesise for us here mere mortals.

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It’s in the pub that beer is sunk in all its various guises

Stouts, ales, lagers, a plethora of hoppy surprises

Gin and vodka are downed along with rum, port and whisky

But excess of the latter can make imbiber lairy and frisky!

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Cider, wines and cocktails – but its mocktails that are the latest fad

Champagne to celebrate the good times, brandy to soothe the bad

Sunday roasts, pickled eggs, nuts and crisps a plenty

A classless sanctuary where all are welcome from driver of Mini to Bentley.

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Friendships, local gossip, politics and “Cheers!”

The secrets and stories shared over wines and beers.

A social media conduit, long before modern technology

The spillage of information under the spell of mixology.

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The buzz, the vibe, the atmosphere, unique in every inn

But its neutral ground, loyal to the punter through both thick and thin.

A quick half or a long night session, another tab at the bar

To connect with local friends or chums who’ve come from afar.

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As lockdown begins to ease we yearn for The Red Lion, The Lamb and The Crown

The Royal Oak, The White Horse, The Plough and The Fox and Hounds.

So celebrate this British institution, the local social hub

And once again enjoy your tavern, your inn, your boozer, your pub.

Rugby is back, the Six Nations here again!

A counter to the virus and all its utter mayhem

A distraction from impeachment, EU tussles and heavy snow

And debates over holidays and if we’ll actually go.

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Opposing fans intermingle (pre Covid), they banter, they don’t brawl.

Violence confined to pitch via ruck, via scrum and maul.

The game unifies these islands, even if only for one day,

Bringing old foes together, it represents fair play.

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It matters not if you win Grand Slams, or mere wooden spoons;

Big voice and rousing pride belts out in national tunes

With bagpipe drones, with drums and with mighty horn blasts

Rugby is the only real winner, so enjoy it while it lasts.

Obesity is, quite literally, the elephant in the room

It’s the avoidable condition that exacerbates our gloom.

In the UK 26 percent of adults with this condition are afflicted

Due to many different reasons from depression to being addicted.

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Across the world obesity has trebled since 1975

And the subsequent side effects have shortened many lives.

Heart disease, osteoarthritis, cancers (too many to mention)

Diabetes, stroke, sleep apnea, anxiety, hypertension.

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This weighty problem has been failed by governments, despite their healthy talk

Cars and buses are just too easy, another excuse to ride not walk.

Playing fields long built over, replaced with pricy spinning class and gym

Such limitations do not help – they are the antithesis of slim.

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Yet we conveniently ignore the problem for fear of mental shaming

Slander, court case, defamation and all the tools of blaming.

We’ve become too sensitive to comments in a world now so litigious

Criticism and advice repelled; it feels blasphemous, nigh religious.

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Ready made pizzas, takeaways, microwave meals and pies

Biscuits, sweets and fizzy drinks, deep fried chicken and fries.

Sugar, crisps, chocolate bars, processed meat, ice cream

To live in Charlie’s Chocolate Factory, for some, is the ultimate dream.

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Many argue that healthy food costs more, but we need to keep proportion

And seek fruit, vegetables, pulses, too, and of course, a smaller portion.

Because here a conundrum which we all can grapple:

If you can afford a donut, you can afford an apple.

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This heavy curse dominates our health systems way beyond the rest

It strips our resources, causes misery and needs to be addressed.

For some this debilitating condition is a genuine and terrible disease

But for others this is a lifestyle choice that the world urgently needs to appease.

All hail the new President, Joe Biden has become number forty six!

And the cycle continues – the American four year itch.

Be careful what you wish for, Joe, you’ve inherited a mess

After a disastrous term of confusion, ranting and largesse.

For the previous leader of the free world has been too distracted of late

Focussing on himself, his isms, focussing on his trials and his fate.

Leadership has been in absentia, so you’ll have to strive with utmost zeal

To restore the reputation of the Oval Office and the Presidential Seal.

The United States has always prided itself on promoting democracy

The prime enemy of dictators, of communism and theocracy

Yet the last few years have witnessed a woeful and shambolic hypocrisy

As an exhausted world has watched, agog, at a despotic autocracy.

The US voting system, has some responsibility, it has confounded and confused

With caucuses and electoral colleges, dimpled chads bemused

Misinformation reigned and Trump’s antagonistic bile

He poured petrol on the flames in his vitriolic style.

President Biden has lots to do – a weighty list to fix

Covid, gun crime, race relations, far right politics.

Nuclear treaties scuppered, broken promises, damaged foreign relations

China soon to overtake the US as the top economic nation.

Russian hacking, teenage hacking, Control-Alt-Delete

A never-ending flow of geeks for the CIA’s cybersecurity experts to defeat.

Obesity (but, D’oh!, please don’t fat shame), the mess of US healthcare

Ongoing environmental disaster, there’s an agenda of despair.

However, all is not lost, there are reasons to be cheerful

The United States is ebullient, the antithesis of fearful.

An entrepreneurial can-do attitude where no-nonsense breeds success

It is a melting pot for ideas and for creativity to impress.

They have mountains, coasts and prairies and infrastructure for survival

A land of plenty, a people of drive and a commerciality unrivalled.

So maybe the best for the globe’s strongest nation is yet to be unfurled

As Biden seeks to heal a divided America and, thus, to heal the world.

“Manners maketh man” so William Horman’s adage goes

A gentleman deploys decorum and selflessness, as everybody knows.

Yet in Washington DC the man in the White House has officially been found out

A decisive curb by social media firms tired of rant and scream and shout.

The President has been silenced, ironically, by his weapon of choice – Twitter

Trump’s been electronically muted, lost his prize transmitter.

To many, his choice of communication was always somewhat alarming

But the removal of such mechanisms are more than just disarming.

Our appetite for electronic communique is more and now and louder

With explanation marks, twists and jibes from the globe’s number one confounder.

For the leader of the western world has become addicted to these network tools

With tweets and posts in CAPITALS, to us, insatiable, device addicted fools.

Social media has its place for ideas and rallying speed

But it’s too blunt and coarse a medium for a man who’s there to lead.

True leadership requires example, inspiration and, above all, grace

To encourage, and to guide, to inspire and to embrace.

Not long ago our politicians communicated via interview with radio, TV and press

They set the tone, they shaped the story and were open to redress.

Today’s leaders are there to share lessons of the past and to shape our future glory;

They are a conduit for betterment, not to become the actual story.

So it seems sardonic that a President finds himself in this lamentable position

Now gagged and pandering to media firms – a source of contempt and pure derision.

Trump has allowed the mob to rule (and so Congress has moved to impeach)

Rather than to govern with kind authority with prose and pen and speech.

“The leaders in Biarritz are fiddling as the Amazon burns”
For the umpteenth time, we never seem to learn.
An area the size of Belgium is destroyed each and every year
Earth lungs are being ravaged by pollution in our atmosphere.

When Notre Dame was ablaze there was immediate global attention
Yet for several days of rainforest destruction, there was barely a mention.
Are we really bothered, are we shirkers, what are our priorities?
It’s time to wake up before it’s too late and accept our responsibilities.

We are consuming more than Mother Earth can give
Our lust for more, for now, for the selfish lives we live.
Plastics in the seas, noxious gases in the air
We plunder the planet today, for tomorrow we have no care.

Species are dying – both flora and fauna
And the world is getting hotter – the proverbial sauna.
Forget cartographers and politicians, we have no real borders
Nature is not interested in treaties nor world order.

The proverb says: “Cometh the hour, cometh the man”
That hour is now, time to shift from can’t to “Yes we can!”.
To invest in our planet, to turn back the tide.
We have only one world, there’s nowhere else to hide.

Gather ‘round British chums and “let’s talk about the weather”
It crosses classes, rivals sport, brings us all together.
The last few days have seen it all, records have been broken
Even climate change sceptics, from their slumber, have been awoken.

The hottest ever day in British history – it was Cambridge that saw the high
As hail stones the size of golf balls pounded down from the Yorkshire sky.
Flooding of biblical proportions, near Manchester, and the risk of a bursting dam
Yet we have a draught across the country and a paradoxical hose pipe ban.

Never before have we seen such behavioural contradiction
Cutting plastic and recycling is our new environmental conviction
But we still love to fly, we still love to have our choices
We want ever more, whilst preaching “save the planet” with pious voices.

Flowers from Kenya, chilis from Mexico, lamb from New Zealand
Apples from South Africa, prawns from China – the air miles they are reeling
But our angst of global strife is beaten by our lust for stuff
Like a sugar addiction, never satisfied, we never have enough.

Prince Harry and numerous global celebrities gathered in Sicily this week
Bare footed and full of good intention, a solution to climate change to seek.
Yet they arrived by private jets, super yachts and fast cars with their messages political
But they became the story with their hubris and their behaviour hypocritical.

There will be more wild weather, more disasters, they’ll be common place you’ll see
Unless we grasp the nettle, cut consumption; not just you, but me.
So when the rain’s torrential or you’re baking in the ever hotter sun
We know the cause, we know the answers, we know what must be done.

The Fifty-Fifth Prime Minister has arrived in the form of Bojo
Full of fizz and brimming confidence, he wants to lift our mojo.
Brexit has gummed life up, creating confusion and disorder
Not least with the backstop question on the Northern Irish border.
The whole union’s under pressure with fresh clamours of independence from the Scots
And a bi-election in Wales that further entangles a government in ever tighter knots.

So who is Alexander Boris de Pfeffel Johnson and what floats his boat?
Former Mayor of London, Foreign Secretary and journalist of some note.
Television personality, raconteur, author of a dozen books
But he divides opinion, to some a hero, to other’s he’s a crook.
He’s known to scrimp on detail in the hope that chutzpah will see him through
But he leaves a trail of flustered subordinates to pick up the pieces, to supply the glue.

Boris is compared most keenly to being like President Donald Trump
They’re both bombastic, both have wild hair, both a little plump.
Bravado is their signature and rabble rousing is their way
Not subtle nor collegiate, its “my way or the highway”.
Both born in New York, both pugnacious and both like to talk the talk
The next few weeks will show if Boris can actually also walk the walk.