East of Tower Bridge

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A glint of jewellery at her throat,
The warm spring wind beneath her coat,
Billowing like the sails on boats
That once moored on the river.

At Shadwell Stair both hand in hand,
Strolling slowly on the sand,
Heading west towards The Strand
Happily together.

Steeped in old Thames history,
Sharing all the mysteries,
Feeling they were meant for me -
Just me and her to savour.

And so we walked the river's bends,
Thinking it could never end.
Then tides we cannot comprehend
Split us from each other.

That time and place are far away.
But there's not a single day
That I don't think of how we played
And sported on the river.

Posted Mar 8, 2016, 12:31 PM UTC · edited