Four Bottles Poem by GRANT FRASER

We went to Asda
bought four bottles,
two for me and two
for you,

we passed the cordoned,
off, burnt down site
where Jimmy Chung's
restaurant recently stood....

charcoal black skeleton,
framed by the Carnival wheel,

the wind was whirling
itself against the prom front,
and the waves
were playing obstreperous
diagonal games...

God we've nothing chilled,
either,
so we hit a place that
still had some sand available,

'don't put them all in...',
so we fished two out,

and I put a brick inside
the polythene and a big
grey smooth round stone,

then tip toed across the froth
- here we go!

and at first we were laughing
cause the idea looked good,
but the wave carried it away, a bit,

so I hooked it quick,
and threw it at the base
of a wooden column,

but the waves were now rising
like dragons of mad hurling
water,
and right away - we knew...

seize them...fast,
you skirled,
where as I protective,
storming backward,
bottle in hand,
froth going everywhere,
no - not my camera bag...

but you determined and engulfed!
froth cloaked,
laughing still, but very soaked,
your leather boots rippling
in the night, salt ocean running...

well looks like that's that...
but I kept dry and you got more wet,
unsuccessful, cross examining
other various flotsam cast
by snippets of moonlight...

'Neptune stole our bottles! ',
c'mon be a sport and throw
them back to us, we pined!
we are destined not to taste
all those lovely drops,

we sauntered up the boulevard,
you took off your socks and
left foot prints,
your denims dark and oozing,
'quick - lets dry off now,
get something new to drink...'