At Arrivals

This is a poem I wrote for/about one of my friend who was studying at my uni on exchange from England. I wrote it a few months after we explored Vancouver together and she had to head back across the pond.

 

I don’t like girls I think they’re gross. You’re an exception though – I like you the most.

You’re kinda weird in your pronunciation, your Northern accent, and GBR abbreviations.

You think Jane sucks, and Bill’s overrated, but I’ll forgive you – Miss Antiquated.

You may be quite small, but your brain is larger, and your heart couldn’t fit in Queen Lizzy’s larder.

I miss you so much I cannot lie, what when I wrote this, I had to cry. And I’m sorry I made this poem rhyme.

But I’m a mess, through and through, but I hope you miss me as much as I miss you.

So what’s the point of planes that fly, and ships that cut through moonlit sky, if they cannot take me to the British Isle.

So this is for Alexandra, and also Fitton and I hope it’s somewhat clearly written, that until I’m shaking, landing, in anticipation, that you’ll be waiting. At Arrivals. Heart racing.

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