It’s the feeling of his hand upon her shoulder,
the touching of their feet beneath the sheets,
no need for any words or salutations,
for they know each others thoughts, each others dreams.
The morning papers come around eleven
and the coffee that she makes is cheeky sweet.
Sunday is a time to be together
and at 1 o’clock they’ll make a bite to eat.
They laze upon the sofa watching movies,
listening to the waves ebb too and fro’.
Old father Thames sits just outside the window
and tells them that it’s time for her to go.
Their feelings and their thoughts are tightly guarded.
Their romance has to be kept under wraps.
He burnt his bridges long before this started
and now the folks they know won’t understand.
It’s the smoothing of her hair against the pillow
the touching their feet beneath the sheets.
no need for any words or salutations,
for they know each others thoughts, each others dreams.