The dream girl at first glance,
From New York to London.
She was a bold one for chance,
Making herself graciously see fit,
For an East End lad's Blackwall wits.
He went home to a darkened room,
Sat alone amongst pictures of the past,
People and memories gone miscast.
The phone pulled him from reality,
Or what he perceived it at best.
It was her at happenstance,
In an idle moment of silence.
He gulped and took his chance,
Brushed away shards of glass,
From love's shattered pride.
There they went dancing down Oxford Street,
Her dapper green scarf calmly flapping back,
Only two amongst millions on a brisk afternoon.
Flicked his cigarette and placed roses at her feet,
Found charm in the words that they would lack,
Heavy hearts cracked - it was all too soon.