Bus stop revisited
Thoughts on a draughty shelter
Dry and inviting
You welcome me
Like a friendly embrace
Come hither you say
Let’s share a draught or two
Though draughty you may be
I will be doing the drinking
And thinking
How much like the old days this is
When I used to be a
Bus stop boozer
For ten minutes I enjoy this reverie
As I see the world through subdued colours
Night time muted shades
Sipping nay gulping my bottle of
Dragon Jamaican stout
Waiting for the 367 to turn up and save me
The trouble of walking all the way
Home
About the Creator
Raymond G. Taylor
Author living in Kent, England. Writer of short stories and poems in a wide range of genres, forms and styles. A non-fiction writer for 40+ years. Subjects include art, history, science, business, law, and the human condition.
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More stories from Raymond G. Taylor and writers in Poets and other communities.
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I met Jason when I was five years old. I could say that I loved him from the moment I saw him. He was so handsome to me and I felt in awe by his presence. When they introduced him as the new kid in school, I wanted to be his friend right away. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remember his smile and how he didn't seem shy. He appeared confident and ready to learn. I waved at him and said "hello," before anyone else could even say a word. He sat next to me, and I asked him if he wanted to be friends. He looked so happy as he said, "Yes!"
By Sidney Smith (Sid Smith)7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
Oooo, that sounds like a cool name for a stout. Loved your poem!
Good one. I think there are bus stops that could give writers a lot of food for thought in many ways and not just for a ride or a rest or a drink or so but for meeting all kinds of people and stories.
Ah, warm memories of "draughty" haunts.
Unique perspective
Why does this sound like a song the Jam should have written? 🍺