I was the jubilee runner
You were the southbank stroller
Carried away in your hair

I turn to see you turn,
To turn my steps into
Paused awkwardness

On the platform to my
Heart you stood, standing
Me still dead in my tracks



You were April’s showers
Raining down on my grey
Metro , the girl outside

Waterloo station,
The one sharing my
Thoughts unspoken

Watershed second
I was London’s haze
Set adrift in your eyes

Parted, but closed around
Your  boho-chic attired
Kohl hairedness

I see you
Southbank bound
In my eyes forever

Open note to the
Sky you set me adrift
In, in that shy second

You were I, were we,
Were us, less them
All we, paused in the throng

Framed in my clickety
Clacking jubilee my
Train-track love

Story, I was the jubilee
Runner to your
Southbank stroller