On Waterloo Bridge, where we said our goodbyes,
The weather conditions bring tears to my eyes.
I wipe them away with a black woolly glove
And try not to notice I’ve fallen in love.
On Waterloo Bridge I am trying to think:
This is nothing. You’re high on the charm and the drink.
But the juke-box inside me is playing a song
That says something different. And when was it wrong?
On Waterloo Bridge with the wind in my hair
I am tempted to skip. You’re a fool. I don’t care.
The head does its best but the heart is the boss —
I admit it before I am halfway across.
Wendy Cope.
Photo By Alistair.
4 comments:
Hari Om
aawwwwwww, anniversary for you perchance? Hope this is looking to be a great week for you. YAM xx
Thanks Yamini,
Not any special day, just a poem I liked when I found it. You have a great week too!
Cheers.
Hey Alistair! This is lovely and upbeat. Thank you! Indigo
I like this poem x
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