I Met Her
The underground was packed
Like sardines we squeezed in and stacked
She was there but not there if you know what I mean
Ipods have a tendency to make people ignore each other which is mean
Some days I felt myself almost smile at her
But I never did quite look, just a quick glance which was a blur
It was at late one night
In the back coach which had a faulty light
I felt someone looking at me
And there she was perfect, as perfect could be
I... smiled, she smiled back
I found myself fixated, on her, dressed in black
We didn’t say a word, our eyes said it all
Then... we parted. I watched her as the tube pulled away leaning against the wall.
When she was out of sight, I kicked myself
Why didn’t you say something instead of sitting on the shelf
I promised at least to say hello
But it was two agonising months before I saw her you know
Each day I had bought one flower with a hope to give it to her
She was...breath taking dressed in black with fur
I hesitated and wondered if she would still recognised me
I walked slowly closer as she did the same you see
We didn’t say a word for what seemed eternity
I must have introduced myself during this time
I heard her say in the sweetest rhyme
The notes of her name on her breath
She almost whispered “Please to meet you, I am Elizabeth”
** A poem for elizabeth wesley I hope you like it**
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