Commuters

They shared a look across the platform on a cold November day.
Two wrapped up travelers wishing they were hurrying off to play.

His cashmere scarf belayed the scuffed old satchel on his arm;
A man of style who knew that thrift would never do him harm.

Her trench pulled tight against those pounds she could never seem to shed.
She thought if he ever saw her less adorned the shame might drop her dead.

But still, she smiled as his eyes found hers, as they had every day before,
And his perfect smile sent in return left her wanting ever more.

She couldn’t know, but on this day the man had made a pact
To his mirrored self to make a move and finally to act.

He strode across the platform, sure and swift as knights of old
And taking off his glove extended a hand out in the cold.

“Good morning, Miss, I feel it’s time to meet and say hello.
You see, I’ve watched you every day and have longed to know you, so…

My name is David, and I hope, if you don’t think it vile,
You’ll sit with me upon the train and chat a little while.”

She met his hand and then his smile as the train pulled up beside,
And accepted his invitation for their Monday morning ride.

They talked of work and dogs and books and flirted just a bit.
And the ride was far too short this day – they wished that they could sit

Side by side for days on end, for each was sure they’d found
A kindred soul and fellow heart where love could run unbound.

Her station loomed and they parted ways with a promise to return
At the end of the day to talk again – there was so much left to learn.

And that was just the start of a love affair to last forever
All thanks to a train and a cold grey day – a happily ever after.

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Sea to Sky

Old Stanley stands atop his post, his arms stretched out for rain
Another blessed weekend in this city once again
Broad leafed trees catch the fleeting sun as horses shuffle past
The girl in the carriage longs to be the girl forever cast
A sweet salt breeze lifts the flag of jaunty white and red
As prayers and dreams go rushing through the weary traveller’s head
The mountains stand just waiting, calling, beconing the spirit
The cruise ship docks and half a city moves so quickly off it
If she could walk forever here beside the sea instead
So much to see and breathe and hear but alas she must to bed!