Poem 1 - 'Wessex Tales of Finest Ales'

is the entry for...our Hardy Country and Coast collection.

Hardy country doth entice me to wander far from the madding crowd
Cross golden fields of hops and ponder and let my thoughts escape out loud.

To taste the hops borne on the breeze and aromas that gracefully dance
Whets my appetite to appease in a Vintage Inn I chance.

And so I return, like the native, to rest blue eyes ‘neath the shade of the greenwood tree
And allow my heart and spirits to rise in this landscape of tranquility.

For deep within the fabric, breathes sumptuous Wessex Tales
Living and recounted, enriched by summers refreshing ales
Of palest amber, or rich in gold, complex, but always crisp and true
Crafted and perfected, savour the balance, the taste, the hue.

For the characters are as distinct in glass, as they are in tale
Inspiring, vibrant, firm or subtle subterfuge under veil
That quench my thirst with unmistakable bite
Or kiss my lips with Kew Gold's deep fruits of sensual delight.

In daydream I muse and think of Jude or the ale like purity of Tess
And endorse the tongue of Casterbridge that Hardy country's best……..
Far from the madding crowd, under the shade of the greenwood tree
I savour the light gold taste of Kew, like Tess, pure clarity.

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Poem 2 - 'From Stannergate to Kittiwake'

is the entry for...our Scotland collection.

From Stannergate to Kittiwake an evening too good to waste
A walk at sundown along the shore - sea air and more to taste.
 
My path cuts a swathe through Grassy Beach, the river on my right
A heron stands at the water's edge, a statue in the fading light.
 
Onwards into Douglas Terrace a look back up the Tay
Reveals the bridges bathed in red, I'm sorely tempted to stay.
 
But no, press on past the lifeboat, moored, all must be quiet out at sea
While in day I was Sunchaser, now twilight is chasing me.
 
The castle looms into view straight ahead, five centuries of sunsets it's seen
The cannon within are silent now, but that's not the way it's aye been.
 
Push on eastwards along the Esplanade, beach deserted bar a dog on the run
Today will have been a different story - throngs descending to worship the sun.
 
Just time to witness a glorious scene, a pod of dolphins at play in the briny
Turning somersaults over the sun-dappled waves, perfect soulmates of nature's finery.
 
Change the company of the river for the nature reserve, haven for wild flowers & walkers alike
Cross the railway bridge in the deepening dusk, a short climb and my goal is in sight.
 
At last, in the garden of the Kittiwake, warmth surrounding me, glass contents cold
Reflecting on my journey, I take a long draught - now I know how it feels to strike gold!

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Poem 3 - 'Intrepid Explorer'

is the entry for...our East collection.

I met a wanderer from the East who said,
'As a vagabond my constant dread
Is to be stuck where there's only lager for sale
And nary a vestige of a decent ale.'
So always be sure that wherever you land,
They've a supply of Adnams Explorer on hand.

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Poem 4 - 'Seeking Liquid Sun'

is the entry for...our Lichfield & Sutton collection.

Hops, barley and sun galore, a thirst to quench, a taste to adore.
Difficult to wrench yourself away and ale to chase day after day.
 
All summer long from pale to gold and from light to light –
A sheer delight till day meets night.
 
And as Sun sets to moor we ought to
Where water meets hops at The Tame Otter.
 
Explorers we find, ales to refresh the brains and mind
From Oxford to Yorkshire Dales, from master brewers all these ales!
 
To choose the best is an unfair test, we have to say,
That's not fair play. We'll sup again another day.

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Poem 5 - 'Vintage Tale of A Vintage Ale'

is the entry for...our Sussex & Sea collection.

SHOREHAM WAS A BUNGALOW TOWN, HANGING ON A BEND
PEOPLE CAME FROM FAR AND WIDE, FAMILIES AND FRIENDS
A CENTER OF THE INDUSTRY WHEN SHIPPING WAS THE TRADE
IT WAS A PORT OF THE KINGDOM, A FORTUNE COULD BE MADE  

BUT SHINGLE MOVED THE GROUND, ON THE INCOMING TIDE
VANISHED HALF THE TOWN, SPLIT THE COMMUNITY WIDE
PESTILANCE DECENDED, ROBBERS IN THE WOODS
DRINKING UP “THE DEVIL'S DYKE” FLOGGING OFF THE GOODS 

ST NICHOLAS WAS ABANDONED IN 1073
 ST MARY'S OF THE HARBOUR, SHE LOOKS OUT TO SEA
AND WHEN THE FOLKS HAD FINISHED WORK WHETHER THEY WERE HOT OR COLD
THEY KNEW THEY COULD ENJOY A GLASS OF BRAKSPEAR OXFORD GOLD 

RAW SILK, RUM AND BRANDY, POLICEMEN ON THE BEAT
DECEIT AND DECEPTION, ON MOTHERLOVE STREET
WATCHED OVER BY THE MASONS, THEY TOOK A FIRM CONTROL
THE CHRISTIANS TOOK COLLECTIONS TRYING TO SAVE THEIR SOULS  

HULKESMOUTH WAS THE NAME TILL 1521
WHEN THEY RENAMED HER SHOREHAM AND THE FRENCH WERE ON THE RUN.
NOW IT'S BECOME A PEACEFUL TOWN WITH RESTARAUNTS AND BARS
WHERE YOU CAN SPLICE THE MAINBRACE, BENEATH THE MOON AND STARS

ST NICHOLAS WAS ABANDONED IN 1073
ST MARY'S OF THE HARBOUR, SHE LOOKS OUT TO SEA
FOLKS STILL COME FROM FAR AND WIDE, ALL SORTS YOUNG AND OLD
‘COS THEY KNOW THEY CAN ENJOY A GLASS OF BRAKSPEAR OXFORD GOLD 

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Poem 6 - 'Board the Boat'

is the entry for...our South Yorkshire collection.

O weary travellers passing by through Sprotborough's richly watered vale,
Step in this Inn and get you dry and quaff a glass of amber ale
For, having those bleak York moors crossed, you're parched by sun or numbed by frost.

Board the Boat for a Golden Sheep, twill make you all with pleasure bleat
And make your trotters want to leap – tonic for your plates of meat!
Then you will leave here well content, that ne'er was better two quid spent.

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Poem 7 - 'Chequered History of Summer'

is the entry for...our Hertfordshire collection.

A pub known as Chequers in the lovely Bragbury End,
Sitting in the garden and drinking in the breeze
Wondering which ale to have and thinking ‘only one?'
The joy of drinking ale on a sunny summer's eve,
Unless you've done it – you cannot comprehend.

Chequers is my favourite of the eight pubs on the map
Hertfordshire's ancient Roman town of St Albans
To the garden city of Welwyn's Crooked Chimney
All have good food with lots of friendly smiles,
Period features, burning fires and golden ales on tap.

The citrussy Explorer will help me find my way around
And navigate me to each vintage inn on my way
But, I cannot choose just one fine summer ale:
The fruity sweet Sunchaser will aid my quest . . .
To get the sunniest garden seat to be found.

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Poem 8 - 'A Wise Choice'

is the entry for...our North East collection.

As wise as Edward Lear's elegant fowl,
We love the warm and friendly Snowy Owl.
The atmosphere is restful, calm in here
In comfort we can sup a splendid beer;
And if of repast you should have desire
From choices offered you will never tire.
The Owl's a gem in old Northumbrian crown
It lies twixt moorland, sea and ancient town.
Beneath the land toiled pitmen, hard and strong,
Proud of the land to which they did belong.
In ancient times the Romans took control
A wall was built, submission was their goal
And even now the earth yields you black gold
Efficient, eco-friendly so we're told.
They'll put it back to what it was before,
Though hardly as it was in times of yore.
Our chosen tavern built of mellow stone,
Inside we find a real ale zone.
And let's be fair, give credit where it's due
Adnam's Explorer is a splendid brew
This 'Vintage' summer's brought us so much joy
Great memories for every girl and boy.

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Poem 9 - 'Golden Sheep'

is the entry for...our Middlesex & Thames Valley collection.

Driving down the Nine Mile Ride, family and friends are by my side.
Near Shinley Forest a place catches my eye. The Golden Retriever? Let's give it a try.
A quaint little pub, this we could all see, the friendly staff ask us 'what will it be?'
The choices were vast, there was just no end! I turned to the bar and asked 'what do you recommend?'

I was given a smile and told 'Escaping the heat? Can't go wrong with a cold Golden Sheep'
A Masham ale brewed the old fashion way, the perfect drink for this hot summer's day.
As I take my first sip of that soft citrus flavour
 I'm refreshed by a beer that's worth every savour.

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Poem 10 - 'The Adnams Explorer'

is the entry for...our Worcestershire & Warwickshire collection.

A life long quest for that that’s best, golden tall and clear,
In clinking, gleaming, foaming pints, on a mat a beer?
 
I have my favourite in my sights, as landlord from the bar, says
‘Three or four but not much more, who dares an ale too far?’
 
‘I dare’ I shout ‘but not dark stout, the Adnams I’ll explore,
And if I venture one too far, I’ll sleep upon your floor’,
 
The landlord sets up for my snooze, with blankets of angora,
Whilst hailing me in history, the Great Adnams Explorer.

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Poem 11 - 'Golden Ale'

is the entry for...our Three Counties collection.

Twinkle, twinkle, Golden Ale, how refreshing, light and pale.
In a glass an amber hue, my thirst to quench now overdue!
 
In the Five Bells - Vintage Inn - my pint of ale I do begin.
With the Chiltern Hills so near - taste of summer in a beer!
 
Crisp and cool and fruity too, with citrus tang tasting new,
I sip, relax and unwind - this beer is truly a find!
 
Twinkle, twinkle, Golden Ale, how refreshing, light and pale.
In a glass so crisp and cold - you're my fav'rite, Oxford Gold!

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Poem 12 - 'Use Your Brains'

is the entry for...our Essex collection.

The country town of Braintree plays host to Fowlers Farm.
A hostelry in every sense that's full of old world charm.  
A cellar with no rival, and a kitchen to behold
Makes a splendid combination, a legend not untold.

Among the many ales (and there's certainly a few),
Is the famous SA Gold – a satisfying brew.  
This classic, hoppy ale with a spicy undertaste
Uses hops picked late in season, but the brewing's not in haste!

A vibrant citrus nosegay, refreshes with a zest.
Whilst the amber mix of flavours makes this ale the very best.

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Poem 13 - 'Festival Ales Come to Plymouth'

is the entry for...our Devon & Cornwall collection.

There’s a place at Sutton Harbour – where everyone loves to go
It’s a Vintage Inn – The China House - in case you didn’t know
The pub is steeped in history – “making porcelain from clay”
Many original features are there to see this day

It’s having a poetic launch, for its Festival of Ale
Come sip, enjoy, watch luxury yachts and many boats of sail
There are six golden ales for you to taste
Come by taxi/on foot – come – make haste

There’s Young’s Kew Gold and Brains SA, to name but a few
There is bound to be a golden ale – especially made for you
The one I really like the best is Black Sheep’s Golden Sheep
You can stand at the rail sipping it, reminiscing tales of the deep

Plymouth was the home to Lenkiewicz and the famous Sir Francis Drake
There is much to do and much to see…so come and celebrate.
Devon and Cornwall have it all, Dartmoor and the lovely coast
In addition to the character Vintage Inns to which I raise a toast!

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Poem 14 - 'A Taste of Summer'

is the entry for...our Kent collection.

Within the inns of Kentish hills a treasure's to be found
Ingle nooks and country cooks and golden ales abound.
A juke box from the fifties, a modern plasma screen,
A garden for the children or a karaoke team.
A warm and friendly greeting, a meeting place for friends,
A cool Sunchaser in your hand, the pleasure never ends.
A choice of six fine flavours in brews that beat the odds,
All hail to the golden ale, amber nectar from the Gods!

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Poem 15 - 'We Follow the Sun'

is the entry for...our Cheshire & Staffs collection.

Sunchaser …. sitting on the barley sweet banks of the rollround Staffordshire river
Near the highway stagecoach bridge.
Feeling the friendly day’s end road stretch and move beneath evening castle-clouds, between the forest’s bough-doodled margins
Sunchaser casts the rainbow net that will make the future whole.
After the nest-wasp fury, the glorious harvest thunders comes day-done satisfaction;
The friendly hop-born peace of reflection, sharing moments, friendship,
Preparing the warm, pale-golden dreams that will fly on tomorrow’s angel wings. 

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Poem 16 - 'Tranquility Amongst Chaos'

is the entry for...our Birmingham & Black Country collection.

Dawn is breaking, there is not a sound,
As along Venetian Black Country waterways the early morning runner does pound,
With only tethered horses that nonchalantly stare and glare,
This feeling is almost as good as the local traditional fare
 
"How bin ya" the dog walker does suddenly say, end of peace and the start of the day,
The journey to work is a frantic affair, half an hour for two miles, oh why do not more people car share?
 
Steeped in history is his making of chain, although the laptop has taken away much of the pain,
Orders for this, orders for that, at times he feels walked on like a doormat
 
Home time comes, oh what a relief, the importance of tea is his only belief,
Faggots and peas a favourite dish, much more enjoyable than meat or fish
 
The kids are in bed, and all is quiet, but last on his mind are thoughts of a diet,
No, off to the pub for a drink with a friend, there is a whole bad world in need of mend
 
Golden Brains and scratchings are the preferred choice tonight,
As war, politics and crime are all put right,
Dusk is upon him, in this relaxed state, ready for tomorrow, with a new clean slate.

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Poem 17 - 'Sandpiper Beer Garden'

is the entry for...our Lancashire collection.

The sound of the breeze in the trees, the gentle buzzing of the bees,
Thinking, drinking, the sun on my knees.
Smiling lasses clinking glasses, I put some Branston on my cheese.

I’ve travelled this road for many a year when Holly Farm was standing here
Before the pub, before the grub, before the real ale and beer.
Where farmers toil to till the soil, the market towns around to cheer.

To the Sandpiper now we go, with the family all in tow.
Sunny seats, funny sweets, beer and snacks and J20
The kids can scream and let off steam, while I drink beer and you Bordeaux.

But Summer soon will start to slip, as Winter reaffirms its grip
Blowing, snowing, in the air a nasty nip
When we all desire the Sandpipers fire and a chair nearby to sit and sip.

But while I hold an Oxford Gold, golden brown and nicely cold
On this lovely summers day that seems a million years away.

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Poem 18 - 'Going For Gold'

is the entry for...our South Wales collection.

Far above the hanging rain-filled clouds,
The Jet Stream's path has veered from northern climes
The Dragonfly's hum consumes the dining crowds
Its namesake mini-beast silenced by the almost wintry times.
Inside, the glow of golden ale does warm my breast;
From dreaming spires and cool collegiate haunts,
The Thames-side brewer's summer beer a test
Of middle age's gently spreading taunts.
 
Oh Wales, you land of song and hills and rain
Where has your summer gone, and why the pain
Of Climate Change's lie of Global Warming,
Where only pub's warmth keeps us safe till morning? 
 
Surely the misery that this failed summer can but muster
Will only be assuaged by Oxford Gold’s pure lustre.

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Poem 19 - 'Eclipsed'

is the entry for...our Notts & Leics collection.

The seconds tripped off of frowns,
The waiting masses saturated in anticipation for the event that was yet to occur

The air seemed to condense; asphyxiate
Taking hold of their contemplation and twisting it,
Wringing out every last drop; breathlessness and heavy to the last

Some stood up: A silent salute to what might happen next
And then it did

A waterfall of adrenaline; Light burrowing amongst the dark at the Badgers Sett,
A menagerie of sound and colour and heat escaping into the void of the sky above

Backs straightened, more rose as if magnetised by the two disks
Impossibly Majestic as they were;
Two Gods of the solar system drawing swords for battle,
Feverish in their existence and total in their awesomeness

A drawing of breath, a collective gasp
As the red-blooded predator was slowly devoured in front of their eyes

For a solitary moment, the Icy God seemed to smile at them;
Delirious in its victory, hollow in its guilt

And then it was over
A creek of light whispered out, tumbling down
Onto the patrons below,
Expelling the drama of the last few minutes into one breathless relief

For now, it was finished
But for how long?
No one knew when the Sunchaser would be back.

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Poem 20 - 'Right on Kew'

is the entry for...our North Downs & Surrey collection.

Not far from those hills that are the North Downs,
The explorer can wander amid fine Surrey towns,
Looking around a little further afield,
Soon to find out what Ye Olde Six Bells will yield;
Ancients sit quietly beneath the old beams,
Joints maybe tired but brains active with dreams,
The inglenook fire in summer is out,
But see it in winter it warms one throughout.
Imbibe a pint of very fine Kew,
One of the best that the brewer can brew!
Having had one you will surely have two.
Amply refreshed you may leave by the door,
Certain to return tomorrow for more.

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Poem 21 - 'Young at Heart'

is the entry for...our Derbyshire collection.

Both narrow and river boats float by as we sip: a wave from a stranger, with a smile on their lip.: a hearty "hello!" from the boatman’s full lungs.

We are watching, quite content, drinking cool pints of Young’s: A glance at the faces as we raise a glass, to those intrepid jaunters as they leisurely pass: The River Soar helps them by; their lives seem carefree: though I suspect, there’s a few who’d swap places with me!

Warm evenings in summertime in green Derbyshire: good company, great service and refreshing "Kew Gold" beer: What happier way could there be to spend time?: Relaxed and untroubled by the passing of time. 

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Poem 22 - 'The Perfect Day'

is the entry for...our Golden Triangle collection.

I stand at the bottom of the hill and look up to Ilkley moor
The Cow & Calf beckons with a charming allure
One foot in front of the other I stride ahead
By the beauty of the surroundings and my thirst I am lead
I reach the top and admire the rocks
Sun beating down, the chime from the church clocks
A lass; it’s just passed the yard arm
As I enter the Inn with its old country charm
A pint of your finest Golden Ales
I’ll start with a Golden Sheep from the Yorkshire Dales
It’s soft, refreshing and fruity, just like me
Not so easy to say after pint number three
A perfect pint I can not deny
There are more Golden Ales I have to try
But these I will save for another day
I must put one foot in front of the other before I begin to sway.
Back down the hill relaxed and refreshed I grin
What a perfect day spent at my local Vintage Inn.

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Poem 23 - 'Kew Gold'

is the entry for...our Bristol & Bath collection.

Shakespeare, could you walk with me today
To my Inn ‘The Globe’ along Bath’s highway
And taste a beer called Young’s Kew Gold
 Served in the modern way - clear and cold
 
For Harry and St George would not be your cry
But fill them up again landlord before I fly
To admire the scenery around Newton St Loe
One more for the road then I really must go
 
Wordsworth too, with your passion for flowers
Young’s perfect flavour and you’d poet for hours
When mine Host serves up this light golden beer
Customers nod heads and some shed a tear
 
There’s no need for you to walk alone
Landlord and staff make all feel at home
The Summer Festival’s our chance to meet
New friends, new tastes, a wonderful treat

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