I'm not yet my usual ascerbic self, so bear with me

A poem from Cubert whose poems can make me laugh. I, who rarely laugh.

You've Got To Love A Girl Who Can Drink A Pint

I see a mate, he's watching me,
Scanning with his eyes...
That pretend aloof,
That look away,
The small laugh as I sigh

One pint down, well through two,
I've been here 30 minutes;
I came to drink and think of you
In the company of strangers.

I hear the smallest mundane talk
And feel the importance of simple pleasures;
I came here seeking a sense of you
And came to understand my treasure.

I listened with your ears,
Tried to see them with your eyes;
These men with talk of cars and beer,
These foreigners stuck in time.

Third pint and I've decided
I'm having a lovely time.

I borrowed this pen from the barkeep,
I wrote this on a coaster;
I felt a sense of agelessness
As I sat here getting older.

I'm caught inside my own dream,
My vague imagining of home;
I couldn't have a better fantasy
That wasn't in your arms.

Slightly pissed and beautiful,
Exchanging lovely smiles;
Indeed, indeed, I see the love
For the girl who can drink a pint.

I've come, I've loved,
I'll come again,
I've uncovered what I needed...
Thanks for the thoughts, the air and flowers,
And the pen to keep my secrets.