posted 16th October 2024
The train stood still, not moving an inch,
No where, not a destination to reach.
The people waited, waited, no power for them,
The driver hissed at the growing crowd,
Hoping to send them to another ground, arguments were all around.
She stood still, still like the train as she watched him through the light.
London can do funny things, love, hate, regret,
All the emotions of an unhappy state.
She still looked on, his blue eyes were like those from ancient Troy,
A Platonian epic to escort her to Yorkshire's golden lights.
The train moved away, finally having the will to fly anyway,
The wheels scratched and thundered,
He was there, the same carriage, the same table lay between her and him.
His smile lightened up her very eye,
Like she’d been hit by a thunderous sky,
The train suddenly arrived, it was only eight-forty-five.
She followed him as far as she could,
Wanting to exchange a word or two.
He stopped as suddenly as she followed,
Two eyes meeting like two rockets in deepest space,
Two lives entwined by God’s good grace.
They danced until they dropped,
Forever they would love,
Forever they would be as one under their parents budding eyes.
