the stratfordian

On the sad demise of the Stratford upon Avon Herald.

So goodbye my old Herald

The last parp on your horn

You’ve been around so very long

Published before Christ was born.

So long my dear old paper

So proud and yet so thin.

Never enough news to go around

That would make your presses sing.

Goodbye to the great headlines

farewell to wicked wit

‘A man’s hat blows off in Meer St’

‘The mystery of white dog shit?’

There’s been nothing quite like you

Your ‘Deaths and all your Births’

There’ll be no more Thursday mornings

To fill me, bursting with mirth.

Goodbye my well-read old friend

resurrection be near?

Who knows that in Australia

Mister Murdoch, he may hear.

Goodbye from me a reader

Hand me a soft tissue

I am praying so very hard

A final bumper issue?

And so, it is now over

All gone, out on a whim

One now only has one last hope

That *Stratford Town might win.



the stratfordian


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