I rarely have had a morning so pleasant
As the day when I visited Mornington Crescent,
I remember a panic that I might be late
As we crawled along the central past Nottinghill Gate,
I’d spent the last night on a mattress in pain
In a friend’s spare room near the Beeb in Wood Lane,
The evening before I’d been told to ‘shush’
By a man in the Empire in old Sherpherd’s Bush.
But I whistled and hummed and even sang a ditty
In the sun as I walked to the tube in White City,
I could rise above all of those things sent to irk us
Like the unscheduled stop in busy Oxford Circus,
The grumbling of others to me seemed quite silly
When diverted to Bakerloo and Piccadilly,
And although it was late I knew you’d be there
As I hopped on the Northern Line at Leicester Square.
I thought of your smile just a few months ago
When we’d met on the platform at Pimlico,
I’d have gone with you anywhere, all over the globe
But much more convenient was Tottenham Court Road,
Then I felt the excitement that again we would meet
As the train pulled away from bright Warren Street
And as I alighted to the cold I saw you wrapped as a present
On that sunny December at Mornington Crescent.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.