Thursday, October 01, 2009

Under Construction 2

He met her standing on the train
Victoria bound. She leant against him
As they swung into the curve
Approaching Haywards Heath

She whispered, Can you feel it?
Magic… you’ll not forget it
Stand below my balcony
And call me Juliet

I’ll unlock the gates of silver
That lead down to your dark thoughts
The basement of your wild dreams
And this the wildest yet

And this may be your last chance
To taste youth’s sweetest offering
For I am young and you are old
And death waits in the wings

And as the man passed with the trolley
Tinkling like tambourines
She slipped her hand inside his jacket
And found his hot damp skin

But then the train pulled to a halt
At Clapham Junction she was gone
He glimpsed her on the platform
The train continued on

He thought, I should have got her number.
Left the train at Clapham with her.
Maybe next time if I meet her
Maybe next time, maybe then…

But in a way was pleased he hadn’t
As he found a seat left vacant
As the train slowed for Victoria
And her touch began to fade

5 comments:

C.J.Duffy said...

Superb!

wastedpapiers said...

Great stuff! But I think a funnier line would be-

As the man passed with the trolley
Tinkling like tambourines
She slipped her hand inside his trousers
And found his tangerines.

Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Brilliant love it

C.J.Duffy said...

At last the truth can be revealled, the one we all have known for so long; 'tis Michael who is the poet. He can make tambourine ryhme with tangerine!!!

Roger Stevens said...

Thanks CJ and Sue. Michael - that made me laugh out loud. Very good...