deepundergroundpoetry.com

Home by twelve

 
Evening lingered, no one wished to leave
Bateman's in the glass, at least in mine
Lemon Dream my friends' 'sleevers'  all (no handles)
At the bar others drink their fill and more,
Vicky pulling pints galore, steaming glasses filled again.
The terrace warm enough , tables joined in conversation,
slats to let the beer drip through, pickled eggs and Wenlock faggots
Real ales our purpose here eight in all, with funny names
fussed with pride  brass and ebony handles.
Saturday fading fast, home to feed the dog;
four enough for anyone. Cross the railway bridge,
silver lines and moonlight stretching out to London;
three quarters ringing out,home by twelve and Jack.
Written by Kexby (john rickell)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 4 reading list entries 0
comments 6 reads 610
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
COMPETITIONS
Today 4:56am by NANCY_RDZ_STORIES
SPEAKEASY
Today 4:15am by Grace
SPEAKEASY
Today 3:33am by DCLXVI_1989
COMPETITIONS
Today 00:41am by Louismatteo349
SPEAKEASY
Yesterday 11:19pm by Ahavati
POETRY
Yesterday 11:05pm by Grace