Her Eyes Poem by Paul Warren

Standing at a pedestrian crossing in Trafalgar Square
Looking at the stone lions and Nelson's Column there
A light drizzling London rain hit the pavement
And I thought that this was usually British sent

And I saw her a dark haired beauty looking out
Of the back window of Rolls Royce being driven about
But she had a wistful look as our eyes met
It was a moment in time that you sometimes get

What did it mean to her at the time I thought
But to me she didn't seem happy as she ought
A fleeting moment is hard for me to gauge or know
But was there sadness that for a moment she would show

There is an old story that money doesn't mean everything
And that it doesn't bring happiness in your life thing
A person's eyes are the windows to their soul
With the sadness showing the limit of her control.

© Paul Warren Poetry