Her picture was in ‘The Courier’,
A beauty with auburn hair,
I must admit I was taken in
As I sat alone, to stare.
Her eyes met mine with a knowing look
For her gaze was so intense,
Only a print in a newspaper,
I was making little sense.

I ******* the paper and tossed it out,
At least, it hit the bin,
But later I would scrabble about
For the piece that she was in.
I smoothed the paper and put the pic
Where it would be safe, and keep,
But found I still was thinking of her
At the sharp end of the week.

She showed again on the social page
Of that dreary rag, ‘The Sun’,
Was standing there in the background of
Some wedding that was on,
Again I scissored the picture out
And I put it with its mate,
But hadn’t a clue just what to do
It began to feel like fate!

I asked around at ‘The Courier’,
I asked about at ‘The Sun’,
But nobody seemed to know where she
Could be, though she seemed like fun.
‘She’s always there in the background where
The photo’s all get shot,
Then after the shoot is over, first
She’s there, and then she’s not.’

I started to hang about in clubs
And the places she might be,
I needed to salt her tail so I
At least, could set me free,
Her image was always staring, glaring
Stuck in my mind each day,
And then, I couldn’t get off to sleep
So I’d curse the night away.

Her face popped out of a magazine,
A poster, there in the hall,
Standing behind some advertising
Blurb, on the old sea wall,
I went along to the ******’s Rest
Thinking to have a drink,
And not too far, but along the bar
I saw… Well, who do you think?

I walked up behind her, shaking, quaking,
Tapped, and spun her around,
‘You wouldn’t believe what I’ve been through,
I’ve finally run you to ground!’
She smiled, and patted her auburn hair
‘Well, would you believe, it’s true!
Since I saw you staring into the page
I’ve been looking for you!’

David Lewis Paget