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Best Poems Written by Steve Sant

Below are the all-time best Steve Sant poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Steve Sant Poem

My Claim To Fame

I went to school with a famous girl
Many years ago
She wasn't nothing special then
Bit snooty as it goes
She played well for the hockey team
Goalkeeper at her station
But clever as she was at that
It wasn't her vocation
She was middling at maths
Her spelling was bad
Geography rotten
Her art work quite sad
She hated cooking
Couldn't sew
She was very good looking
But didn't she know!
Just another 
Classmate at school
Nothing much special
About her at all
Until one Christmas
New teacher appears
Says were doing a play
He wants volunteers
And up shot her hand
No hesitation
And wasn't she grand
A standing ovation
Next term came
Another play
Another triumph
Stupendous they say
And on this went
Term after term
For training shes sent
And never returned
Next time I see her
She's on the TV
The girl who sat by me
In Maths and RE
Now many years later
And by any measure
The girl in my class
Is a national treasure
Shes Oscars and BAFTAS
Shes even a dame
Im glad that I knew her
Shes my claim to fame

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Dogs Dream

An elephant wore pink pyjamas
As he feasted on ripened bananas
He said don't touch the grapes
Nor the big juicy dates
They belong to Peruvian llamas

So I wonder on into my dreams
And nothing is quite what it seems
Theres a blue speckled frog
In a deep purple bog
Where an antelope wears denim jeans

Bemused by an owl with no wings
I watch as he does wierd things
He reads for an hour
Of Owen Glendower
Then Land Of My Fathers he sings

I notice a snake in a tree
He is watching the owl just like me
With unmoving calm
He causes alarm
Heart beating like thunder I flee

I wake with a start in the dark
And hear the song of a lark
My basket is warm
As I see in the dawn
And I give up a good morning bark.

Details | Steve Sant Poem

Gilly and Auntie Pam

Gilly darling dont do that
You don't know where it's been
And put our hat on there's a love
I'm fetching some ice-cream
Do you want a cornet child?
Or will you take a lolly?
Oh Gilly darling don't do that
I'll have to tell your Mummy
Now sit here on the beach towel
And do try to be good
I know you're keen on swimming
And I'd let you if I could
But Auntie Pam's a land lubber
The waters not for me
Oh Gillian for heavens sake
Just let your pig tails be
Now what is it to be my girl?
A cornet or a lolly?
A choc-ice? I suppose so
But if it melts we'll all be sorry
Chocolate on your pretty dress
A most unbecoming site
Oh Gilly child dont blubber
I shall get you one ,alright?
Oh look the van is going
Oh botheration damn
We'll have to have a sandwich
There is cheese or strawberry jam
There we are a jam one
Now do be careful please
Dont like it? Why, its lovely?
Oh ok then have a cheese
Finished it all up I see
There's a clever girl
Now have a bit of lemon cake
Or there's a Vienesse Whirl?
No I don't have jaffa cakes
No there are no crisps
Now Gilly just behave yourself
And still those quivered lips
I'm going to have a read now
Just play nice on the sand
And don't go by the water
Hold onto to dollys hand
Pam looks up from her book
No Gilly is in sight
Oh blast the child she murmurs
Then, Im sure she'll be alright
Gillian she hollers
What? Comes the reply
O there you are behind me
And the child begins to cry

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The Oldest Woman In Town

Splendid she was in her old wooly hat
She sat in the garden and watched the world pass
Beside her asleep was her mangy old cat
The oldest woman in town

Nobody knew just how old she might be
If you asked her she'd say 'a bit more than me teeth'
She drank barley wine and smoked the Gold Leaf
The oldest woman in town

Summer, winter, whatever the weather
She'd sit in her garden and sell lucky heather
She'd say she was lucky rather than clever
The oldest woman in town

One day as a kid when the weather was mild
I sat down beside her and looked up and smiled
She said 'what are you wanting you horrible child'
The oldest woman in town

Then one day much later before I left school
She wasn't sat there on her wooden stool
I thought probably died the silly old fool
The oldest woman in town

But later that day as I made my way home
She was sat in her garden all on her own
Had the cat gone left her there all alone?
The oldest woman in town

Approaching quite wary I noticed her eyes
Were trying to hide but couldn't disguise
That terrible sadness when somebody dies
The oldest woman in town

'Wheres ya cat' I venture quite bold
'He's sleeping' she says 'he getting quite old'
'In fact sleeping forever truth to be told'
Said the oldest woman in town.

'Im sorry' I says and I meant it as well
She was ever so lonely and sad I could tell
'Thank you' she said 'he was a loyal old pal'
The oldest woman in town

After that I'd stop and chat everyday
She'd so many stories and tales to relay
And most of them involved a roll in the hay
The oldest woman in town

All these lads but never wed?
Was something I instantly wished I not said
She looked up at the clouds said 'me husband is dead'
The oldest woman in town

I was sorry (again) and she said 'its Ok
It was way way afore you were born I daresay
He died a young man on a cold winters day'
Said the oldest woman in town

'Thats very sad' I was sorry again
'Ah the years pass on by and with em the pain
I wish I could kiss him once more just the same'
The oldest woman in town

Many years later I came home on leave
To learn that she'd died on the last Christmas Eve
No more old lady was hard to believe
The oldest woman in town

I went to graveyard and there found her stone
She lay with her husband she wasn't alone
I lay down my flowers, and off I went home
Glad I knew her..the oldest woman in town.

Details | Steve Sant Poem

One Time Above a Little Shop

One time above a little shop,
An old greengrocer climbed on top,
Despite himself he could not stop,
The world had changed forever.

The fruit of that old grocers loins,
Became obsessed with notes and coins,
She knew the club she had to join,
For she was very clever.

Yet not as clever as the man,
From council flat in Birmingham,
Bought her vision and now he can,
Not get help for his wife.

A wife he loves and yes adores,
Who gave him joy and did his chores,
And lives today in corridors,
The last days of her life.

She sleeps and so he sits a while,
And raises just a little smile,
As he begins to reconcile,
The error of his ways.

He sees a TV playing news,
A woman in expensive shoes,
Repeats the grocers daugthers views,
F*** off out loud he says.

Details | Steve Sant Poem

The Widow

Sunday after Evensong
We would go for a sherry
Now don't get me wrong
It was just a sherry, nothing more
I'd look at her face
She would look at the floor
We'd talk of the sermon
By old reverand Jones
We'd have little giggles
Sometimes little moans
But on the whole
It was nice was that
An hour in the pub
Chewing the fat
Then one of these evenings
We two widowed old hags
Were out in the shelter
Smoking our fags
When all of a sudden
She bursts into tears
Whatevers the matter?
Bereavement I feared
Its my rent
She says all forlorn
Ive spent all me savings
Everythings gone
I cant pay my rent
Theyre chucking me out
She was in a pickle
Of thats theres no doubt
Anyway, me
A Christian soul
I helped her out
Of this deepening hole
She was ever so grateful,
And said so a lot
Those promised repayments,
Well I never got,
But nevermind,
Right thing to do,
Soon back in the pub
For a sherry or two
Then one summer Sunday
She wasn't in church
Perhaps she was ill
Or again in the lurch
I called round on Monday
But nobody at home
Following Sunday
Sherry alone
Maybe the police?
Would they think me insane?
Or maybe her niece?
Oh what was her name
I pick up the paper
I need a distraction
If only to forgive myself
My inaction
And, well 
I hardly know where to begin
Paper tells
Of a ten million lottery win
And smiling at me
Holding her champagne
A widow I know
I shall not see again

Details | Steve Sant Poem

A Heroes Burial

Lay him by the tree stump he'll be shaded by the wall
He might then rest forever not til next time Jerry call
Lay him deep and cover him in stones as well as soil
Our comrade is deserving of our labours and our toil
For he today has saved us, his bravery unsurpassed
He took the bullets for us and he battled to the last
He was our shield and our weapon our leader and decoy
He shall never see his medal nor his just born little boy
But he shall know his comrades.... appreciated him
Now heave those spades my boys and let the burial begin.

Details | Steve Sant Poem

The Plaque

1908
Last day at school for me
Some thirteen years Ive had
And Im going to be a farm hand
Just like me dear old Dad

Here now its Mr Peters
A silence falls over the class
'Registration' he says as he does every day
I am Williams and always called last

Boys first as always he starts,
I know it off by heart,
Abbot, Brown then Carter,
Cartwright and Cathcart,

Edwards, Jones and Needham,
Penny, Potter, Ryan
Sadler, Seedhouse, Setters,
The Smiths both John and Brian,

Taylor, Tonks and Tromans,
Walters, absent he,
Watson, Wigg and Wilberforce,
Then Williams, thats me.

1915
We'd never been out of the county
But here we were grabbing our chance
With butterflies, rifles and bayonets
Here we were heading for France

We crossed on the good ship bravado
Yearning for war stern to aft
Back slapping loud gallows humour
We were young, we were keen.... we were daft

1920
My sister asks if Im going to see the plaque
Then quickly says sorry
I just mean do you want to go
I tell her yes and dont worry

Its cold, my sister holds my arm
'Here comes your teacher' she whispers
'A fine day for it Williams' Peters says
'This must be one of your sisters'

'My wife' I lie and he buys it
I hear someone giggle behind
He tells her she must be a very brave girl
To marry a man who is blind

I swear at him spitting my venom
Like a serpent cornered and trapped
But a voice speaks over a megaphone
And everyone cheers and claps

We are moving along at a shuffle
People queuing to look at the plaque
My sister describes the ornation
Upon cedar wood names carved in black

'What does it say?' now I ask her
And she read me the words that she saw
To those of this village who gave their lives
for their country in the Great War

Read me the names I tell her
And slowly now she does start
Abbot, Brown, Carter,
Cartwright, Cathcart

She hesitates a little,
She is crying a little as well,
I say it doesnt matter
She is finding it hard I can tell

The list is very long she says
And though so much I care
The very best thing about it is
That your name is not there.

Details | Steve Sant Poem

Virtuous Star

The broken feeling you learn it young
You must for it's certainty true
No hysterical fits just stiff upper lips
We are British and that's what we do

So when I was but five and my grandfather died
And old aunts wept silent tears
I acted much older me being a brave soldier
My conduct addressed not my fears

My mother explained how it all got arranged
You had to be good and be kind
And long as you are a virtuous star
You shall leave the old devil behind

What is good though I wonder still on it I ponder
Some horrible people do pray
At this my fathers wake I make the mistake
Of thinking there's nothing to say

Details | Steve Sant Poem

When Stockton Cried No Pasaran

The summers end was near
We smoked in the dockyard
And talked of the foe
Which even now came closer

They began to arrive
Bus loads of them
Black hearts in black shirts
But we were ready

They marched and we charged
They ran and we chased
The police to protect them
They withdrew in haste

We rained upon them stones
and blows, and be there a God
He was not in black clothes
But raging there with us

They limped away by omnibus
A souless caravan
Crawled back to Leeds and Nottingham
When Stockton cried 'No Pasaran!'.