Poem By Elizabeth Atkinson
Recently we met, by chance,
And I was reminded of the past. You told me you regretted
That time had gone so fast.
You wished that we had tied the knot
And could we get together at last. I gently pointed out to you
That you had missed your chances.
There had certainly been a number of times
when you could have made advances. But in those days your secret love Had been your Triumph Twin*
And in those thrilling, speeding days I was the ornamental trim. You asked if I would telephone
To talk of when and where,
But too many obstacles cloud the scene
And with regret - I left you - there. * a motor-bike