­I was the jubilee runner You were the southbank stroller Carried away in your hair   I turn to see you turn, To turn my steps into Paused awkwardness   On the platform to my Heart you stood, standing Me still dead in my tracks   You were April’s showers Raining down on my grey Metro , the girl outside   Waterloo station, The one sharing my Thoughts unspoken   Watershed second I was London’s haze Set adrift in your eyes   Parted, but closed around Your  boho-chic attired Kohl hairedness   I see you Southbank bound In my eyes forever   Open note to the Sky you set me adrift In, in that shy second   You were I, were we, Were us, less them All we, paused in the throng   Framed in my clickety Clacking jubilee my Train-track love   Story, I was the jubilee Runner to your Southbank stroller

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