A youth hostel tale

poem by: Andrew Shepherd
Written on Dec 30, 2018 

‘Can I turn the light on?’, asked the fuzzy haired young fellow
He placed down his black guitar case
As irateness replaced his voice of mellow
Cause we laughed like idiots half drunk
All nervous and behaving oddly
I laughed even more then ever though when my friend kicked the springs under my bunk
We all stuttered ‘Yes!’, quite quickly
And giggled in our basic blanketed beds
We had to escape very early in the morning in case he woke up all tired and prickly 
And escape the three of us did
When we tiptoed down the creaky old stairs
Into the cold York morning where we boarded a train and calmly hid

 

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Frank Hornby . commented on Dec 31, 2018 at 9:49am
I love poems like this......recalling old escapades....keep them coming Andrew....

 

 

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