White Cliffs of Dover now sponsored in daydreams Reading each billboard that rusts on the sky Checking a map though it’s for the wrong city She sends a smile to the wink of his eye
Overhead cords hang to signal a stopping Pulled like a kite that is fighting a breeze Setting his watch as if time is most urgent Tiny the gesture to put her at ease
Anxious she strums atop metal and leather Songs in her head dance at half past the price Suddenly yanks as the trees are enormous Grabbing her bag she does not ask him twice
****, screams the brakes and some passengers flying Coffee and biscuits collide in the aisle Fixing her hair like a debutante princess Waits on the door and then exits in style
A tip of his hat to the fatherly captain Treading deliberate, the stairs leading down Adjusting his jacket lapels till they’re even Spun, is her skirt as a fine evening gown
Coughing a hairball, the old engine rumbles Sigh, moan the bi-folds directed to close Noticing now that her left hand is empty Lifting a stone from the shoulder, she throws
Causing a crack in the bug spattered windshield The bus driver digs for his insurance card Grumbles a curse word, his bible forsaken Just a small pebble and not tossed so hard
She stands at the portal awaiting admission Watches each eye as she fumbles about Cheers to herself when her fingers meet plaster Knows all too well it is no time to shout
Apologies gifted like Christmas in August Promising beer with a head made of foam When she appears on the exit step lower In her left hand she now clutches her gnome
Into the lobby of lemon cake ceilings Chandeliers glisten like ***** champagne A tap on the bell wakes the concierge sleeping “That was my dream!” comes his groggy complain
Currency shoveled the counter of granite Not yet a bride nor a non-shaven groom Still it is felt like a pink feathered boa Lovebirds want cages, these two need a room
Holding his hand as they shuffle the staircase Ornate the copper reflecting her grace Wearing a smile that is sheepish and woolen What waits the night paints the look on her face
He calls the bed, fears his ankles are swollen She shuts the door to their quarters superb Then slightly opened for placard replacement Written in English reads, Do Not Disturb