Lynda

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I first met Lynda at work;
Like an angel from heaven,
She smiled at me
Over the photocopier
And we started talking.

Lynda was a few years older,
Wild and free,
Soft blonde hair
Falling to her shoulders,
A little crazy, unpredictable,
Eyes of electric blue,
That left my head
Floating in the clouds.

I remember the moment
She melted into my arms,
As the band played
‘Man of colours’,
Providing a soundtrack
To one passionate summer.

She invited me behind
Those blue eyes,
Spending endless days
On the beach,
Dancing and partying
Through the night,
Losing ourselves
Under the stars,
Happy and intoxicated
By the scent of perfume,
The soft touch of lips.

There was no need for words,
Or hollow promises,
Just the sound of waves,
As we watched the sun rise
Through the curtains of her room.

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