Treasure Island

GRANT FRASER

(JUNE 7 1964 / ABERDEEN)

Hey You


Hey You,

What the hell, we did the whole
circuit, right round the city, In mad rush
December, I can't remember last night so much,
but with cold air, when we came out of there, the Vodka Bar,
and the lights revolved...and under the old Bridge, you said,
for a **** cause i had to go...

But ye know we made it to the Nativity this Morning,
and you had a Scotch Egg later, and we bought Christmas
decorations, and lights, and we got some cheap microwave
curry, cause we were still in a sort of hurry, but got
on with it anyway, then went to boots, to print a photo, bought
a blue pea coat for James, and then home...

put on the heating, you got the duvet, curled up in front
of a Cocteau film, but you drifted off, because I stole all
the blankets the night before, so I got ice cream out, and
kind of left the planet myself, and drited from the picture...
all the way, and said eventually 'lets just go to bed -
and we did, but you got up - to go back and put up your Christmas
tree, and left me this lovely sweet note...

Have a good night,

See you Saturday!

Love from Helen

(A Star)

Submitted: Wednesday, December 18, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (Hey You by GRANT FRASER )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]