So consider everything –
That image of perfection,
That powder-puff woman
On those cotton clouds,
To that ‘screever’ covered in soot.

Seventeen Cherrytree Lane may be worth a song.
That blustery London Avenue
Summer Blossom
‘Winds in the east…’
Rosy cheeks –
Perhaps love is nothing more than dancing
in a Candy-striped blazer,
With a ribbon in your hat.

What kind of lust brings them both to the city?
The float in flocks of petticoats,
And dabble in Sunday kite flying.
‘Mist coming in,
Something’s a’brewing…’
He draws round her shadow
And recognises her face.

Just old friends
From old places,
That stay till the wind changes
Seize your chance Bert.
Seize your chance.