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