"A Place Called Rhondda"
The Oasis
by
Denis Scott
When I was young and full of ale,
Ianto and I
Missed the last bus from Ferndale.
Wearily weaving our way home
I often heared the cry of Ianto, my pal,
Echoing across the Valley's hills,
"Oh where is that blasted Urinal".
Ianto, bless him,
Played in the brass band,
And now he's singing,
"I've got the whole world in my hands".
Out of tune of course,
That's why he's in the band,
Instead of Pendyrus, you know,
In a place called Rhondda,
Many years ago.
Because,
In a place called Rhondda,
Many years ago,
There were stalls
Strategically placed,
About every mile or so.
A place of bliss,
A place where you can p--pause
A moment's respite, if you will,
An Oasis.
Pontygwaith had two urinals,
One at the top end,
Opposite the Bridgend Hotel,
Which was good,
And one at the bottom end
Where the Bridgend Brewery Company stood.
Boasting two pubs
And two Clubs
Within a mile,
We were additionally blessed
With the aroma of the brewery,
So distinctive and addictive,
As we passed by with a smile.
Many an evening,
After a brew, or two,
Men would empty from the pubs,
And clubs,
And you could see and hear
Those who had had quite a few.
After an evening of lifting the glass,
There wasn't a urinal you could pass.
It was there so you could rest for a moment,
To pee.
But only for the men you see.
You'd stagger in, and
Perhaps you'd meet
A chap from your street.
You'd slur, "Awright!"
And raise your hand in greeting,
You know,
The one holding the "fag".
The other hand you'd
Better not raise, oh no.
Unless you're one to brag,
In a place called Rhondda,
Many years ago.
There was a midget called "Shorty",
He's from Tan-Y-Bryn.
Though he's bustin' to go,
He's loathe to go in.
You see, one night,
He had a fright,
Standing next to a chap,
One of great height.
Who stammered,
When looking down, his greeting,
"A-a-w-r-r-ight?"
Looking up, Shorty replied,
"I-I-I am OK. T-t-th-a-anks."
"A-a-re y-y-ou m-m-o-cking m-m-e-?"
"N-no. You're splashing!
The urinal was not a social place, gosh no,
Though you could bump into
Someone you'd know,
In a place called Rhondda
Many years ago.
And down in the centre of Porth,
Was the biggest and grandest of the day.
I mean Urinals, of course.
This one was a kind of universal urinal,
With ladies in mind.
But they had to pay.
Men do not walk far
For a drink anymore,
The corner pub
Is the farthest they would go.
For places afar
They would go by car,
From door to door.
Taxis proliferate,
And designated drivers
Ferry the drinkers
To and fro.
And in today's culture,
Where reality television
Encourages
Shocking behaviour,
It's become the norm in the land.
Decency has fled
And
Foul mouthed youths
Who have no need for urinals,
Go wherever they stand.
Ugly looking urinals
Smelling bad
Were essential then,
And some can still be found
Providing relief to those
Homeward bound.
Adorned with fine art,
Proudly they stand
Testament to the innate desire
To create beauty
In this wonderful land.
If you wish to further explore the past,
and the present,
double click on the links below:
"A Welsh RareBite"
"A Nation of Amens"
"Only For A Day"
"Valley Green"
"Lost Songs"
"Those Men in White"
Wales v England 1999
If you wish to correspond with Denis
please select:
Denis Scott