1. I first saw you
    in the waiting room
    where we’d sit
    every late afternoon
    and wait for a train
    going east out of town,
    a view over the city
    with the sun going down
    passed the time.

Girl on the train
I’ve been watching you
between the crowds
the last week or two
but I didn’t get
to catch one lasting look,
a scene from the window
and a paperback book
passed the time.

I wish I’d seen you in some other place
where meeting might’ve led to romance.
Instead I must hope for once in your face
I may detect a flattering glance.

Girl on the train…

So there she goes now
hoping to transform
in T-shirt ‘n’ skirt
this dreary platform.

Just like the victim
of some new campaign
by a pale retail
sub marketing chain.

Now with a mobile
right there by her side,
gently mouthing words
and never tongue-tied.

Girl on the train.
Girl on the train.

Just like the target
of this ageing rogue
who’d tell her she’s from
the pages of Vogue.

She could step out of
this busy carriage
into his arms then
into his marriage.

And walk up the aisle
to catch a big plane,
in time-honoured style
from Gatwick to Spain.

Girl on the train.
Girl on the train.

Girl on the train.
Girl on the train.

Copyright Keith Ames