For a small town girl Alone in the sprawl of the creaking metropolis She kept to the bustle of the hurrying crowd Lacking the courage to explore Londonβs surfeit of nooks and crannies ~ Where Dickens once walked the Victorian cobbled alleys and beyond Passed unnoticed by wide eyed tourists Harried by their clip board minders Mindful to keep to the tight schedule. ~ Long enough now for wonder to subside With time to absorb the lessons to be learnt By taking the bus over Westminster Bridge To avoid the Tubeβs rush hour crush of humanity and the wandering hands of marauding touchy feelers ~ Friends are hard to find north of the Thames Work time colleagues return home to suburbia Leaving London to the empting streets Feral cats emerge to scavenge the waste bins While the bag lady beds down in a vacant doorway ~ In an Italian coffee house on the Lambeth embankment She found a special place to sit and scribble Where the customers provided flesh for her characters Where Giovanni breaks into song when the trade slackens and Amor di Pastorello is in tune with the lapping tide.