The Old Man in the Pub.

Every evening I would walk down the road,

Walk into my local,

The Landlord would greet me.

“Evening Fred, a pint?”

Without really asking

The pint would be on the bar

By my seat,

My seat in the corner.

I sat there and watched,

As I have been for many years.

They all know me,

All greet me with a smile,

And a ‘Good evening Fred’.

Some come and chat

And pass the time of day,

Some we talk for hours,

Putting the world to right,

Many days I just sit and look,

Look at the folks in the pub.

Some playing darts,

Some playing cards,

But all with good grace,

And a smile on their face.

Many I have seen grow

From young people,

Into grown up women and men.

Each has come to know me,

The old man in the corner,

With his pint,

His wisdom,

And his wit.

But many do not know

As I finish my last pint

And walk out of the door,

I go home to my house,

The house where my lover lived,

But is there no longer.

Taken from me

So many years ago,

But every evening

That first pint in the pub,

I think of her,

And know that I will be with her,

Sooner rather than later.