Grecian Urn Platform Seven

Crewe Station is unlovely tired and asleep
It’s like an old man with no past
The coffee is gravy
This is my observation

I hear the rumbling thunder
Of a train coming in
Boarders walking to the edge
Imagining a seat to themselves

People disembarking greeters waiting
Business people rushing to the beat
Of their own importance
Trolley wheels skating up the steps

The next train will be awhile
Someone’s left a newspaper
On an empty bench
Unfortunately it’s the Daily Mail

‘Do you mind if I sit here’
Spoken by a statue
Made of cut glass
Melting my bored heart

‘Not at all help yourself’
Her perfume unobtrusive
Her presence felt
I think I’m in love

She smiled at me
With her bonfire night eyes
Sparks, crackers, fizzes and whistles
Flying all through my head

We never spoke after that
My thoughts hit by her beauty
I should say something more
Before the tannoy does

If its fate she will get on
The same train as me
In the same carriage
In the seat next to me

This was unbearable
A man walks past pissed
We both laugh
When we should have kissed

Here comes my train
Off steps a man
Who walks towards me
And puts his arms around her

I’m pining at the potential
I climb aboard my carriage
She unexpectedly waves
Maybe it’s her brother?

I depart Crewe Station
With my hopes moderately high
Still believing in the thought
That one day we will kiss

©JMcN 2013