Boys and Pubs……

Hello, Poetry Lovers,

Not sure which way round that title should go…..Pubs and Boys? Boys and Pubs? There was an era when they went hand in hand. I didn’t ever get the boy I fancied though, yet all my mates did! Where was the justice in that?!

This picture of me above, appropriately, was taken at the iconic French House in Soho. However, our local pub was much lower profile than that, and I couldn’t envisage any Soho bohemians going through the doors of the Queens Arms. Good-looking blokes did though……..

This is quite an old poem, do read on…..

 

Boys…..

In the pub, Julie liked a boy, sitting by the fag

machine

But me and Sue didn’t fancy his mates

so she was on her own!

Then Sue gets off with a nice boy called Paul,

and I was out on a limb – again!

Why didn’t I ever get a boy I fancied?

What did I do that was so wrong?

And here I am, making awkward

conversation with someone called

Mike.

Two spare parts together. 

While his pal Dave snogs Julie like

his life depends on it. 

He’s so gorgeous, and I wished

that was me, feeling his breath on

my skin. 

Sue has left the pub with Paul.

I long to ask her if it’s as wonderful 

as they say?

Mike takes my hand in his and

I snatch it away. 

I want to go home, but I’m buggered if Mike’s

coming with me. 

I pretend to go the bog, then slip out the main

door.

I should have gone to the pictures instead!

Heather Moulson 2017

There you have it, PL’s, many a Saturday night was spent walking home in the rain, unaccompanied. That’s how I remember it anyway. So, when constant Saturday nights in as a result of Lockdown get on your nerves, think how much worse and lonely it could have been in that local pub.

Thanks for tuning in, Poetry Lovers. Now, to give Dobby her supper. Tune in real soon for more poetry action…..

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