There comes a certain time in life
When the inevitable seems to appear
Age is catching us with us
From the things we did last year

Now looking around the empty chairs
At the place we would monthly meet
Gone are the smiles, the handshakes,
From the pals we would warmly greet

A lot has happened in those fourteen years
The numbers have dwindles slowly
I like to think those Canal veterans
Are parading, somewhere holy

Our meetings now are coming to an end
Maybe the “gang” is of five or six
They can’t take away those memories
Of comrades, what a wonderful mix

- Geoff Buckby (Northants)


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