a quiet night in squires

A Quiet Night in Squires

On an evening in august, as the light began to fade,

I called herself unto me and said, this day was almost played,

As we sat and thought, we had little else to do,

So to the pub we went thinking a quiet drink or two,

As we had our first, sure, the squire himself appeared,

And all was quiet, in this pub, that is revered,

Some friends they came to join us, as we sat and had our beer,

In walked a bunch of Canadian people seeking cheer,

Turned out they are good singers, and want to hear a song or two,

Who better to oblige them, then a poet and teacher true?

Competition it was lively as Canada went into the lead,

Yet as Irish we dug deeper, more beer was all we’d need,

There was singing, there was talking, one and all forgot the time,

Closing was for half eleven, but half one rang out the chime,

The Irish poet he rose up and read out one of his ode’s,

The squire he had left, and his wife now held the court,

Sing on she said ye’re no bother, why would I stop ye now,

Sure tis way past closing time, and I enjoy the crowd somehow,

On and on we went, singing songs to beat each other,

Until a draw it was declared, by a 95yr old singer’s mother,

No more poetry no more singing, the night was coming to an end,

Out for a quiet evening sixteen people, had now made friends,

The songs ring out as ever, towards upscale music eighty five,

Proving yet again, Canada and Ireland are truly alive,

To Judy and your group, who happened upon, a quiet local bar,

Ye made a quiet night of contemplation, into a bright and shining star,

May ye travel well and true, be safe in everything ye try,

It was a night we’ll all remember, this we never can deny,

A restless night who’d have thought we’d meet,

Neither Canada nor Ireland, have tasted singing defeat.