Of Thursday Night In Newcastle

[Anahorish]

I left Peter
Mumbling incoherent nothings
And trying to hug me
I would have loved him
But maybe another day
Instead I wandered home
In pouring rain, the night air
Warm with summer
And as Pilgrim Street
Became Northumberland
I saw not a soul adrift
In the empty town
Along Saville Row the flowers
Gave off their nocturnal scent
Intermingled
With the damp summer heat
As midnight edged towards 1
I climbed the steps
And thought of work
But for now the night moves on
In her darkened climes of summer
And I content to be with her.

 

[Freya]

Peter was out on Thursday? I think I know him.

 

[Anahorish]

Peter was out on Thursday? I think I know him.

LMAO!!

It wouldn't surprise me! I wrote this poem after a work's night out during the summer and Peter was absolutely trollied that night!

 

[Freya]

Hmmm. Did Peter used to work at Marks and Spencers?

 

[Anahorish]

No idea, I don't think so anyway. But you never know!!

 

[interbac]

pome blind

strong stuff, methinks. Not one for poetry, but yours caught my eye.

 

[Anahorish]

Awww, thanks!

Eee, I'm chuffed to bits now!