John Fryer came to live in Cumbria as a child and spent his working life in industry before retiring in the late 90's.

A keen hill walker, he has always had a great love of the Lake District.
Currently he is working on a novel but derives much pleasure from writing poetry.

He joined the group in order to develop both his writing skills and knowledge of poetry.

Coronation Day 1953

Streets apart

Where did all the buses go?

On our road were tables and chairs

Home kitchens suddenly bare

Table cloths - formalised display

Most mates were on other estates

Roads, terraces or even crescents

Coronation mugs came our way

And those shiny five bob pieces

In see through plastic sleeves

Treasures to keep  forever and ever 

The customary white iced buns 

Capped with bright red cherries

Spam sandwiches, trays of toffee

With home made crackling crisps

White church cups filled with tea

Or lemonade - if you were lucky

After a while we just sidled away

To friends in parentless places

Talking of our monetary gains

Someone sold it - straight away

Later when the buses returned

We were on the road playing again

Between grey concrete lampposts

With an old bruised tennis ball

Soaring scoring countless goals

Dodging buses - as they came

With tables and chairs repatriated

Most of us felt somewhat deflated

Her Majestys crown still on her head

When mothers called us - in for bed