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Fantasies On The Circle

Oh! To find that storybook love!
Our eyes meet and,
in my mind,
we are away and in love,
made to wander aimlessly
through enchanted forests,
and hold one another's hand,
and fight off evil with a bat of our eyelashes.
If only you would draw sword
and defend me.
I could stand
and cover my mouth,
and cheer when you win.
Fairies would come at night
and wreak havoc with our days.
We would spend endless hours
being deliriously confused
and gently sad,
before we find one another again,
in a scene from your childhood dreams,
or mine.
When you are gone,
the horses and my protection with you,
you will write longhand letters
in sloping pens,
reciting the greatest poets,
lamenting the loss of me,
describing love in one hundred ways
I've never heard before.
We will be reunited,
once four seasons have made your eyes
a shade darker,
and mine a shade sadder,
but the banquet will give us fire
and we'll dance and laugh our way
to a happy ending.
But alas,
all this is not to be,
because Liverpool Street is your stop
and mine is Farringdon.
You get off, and I look through the window,
wishing I had the courage to wink.


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