Ohh What Joy

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• If I was the last girl on the tram and you the only boy.
•  I'd make pretty eyes at you ohh what joy..
• I'd scatter my books about, my writings everywhere,
• And just a look from you, OH boy oh boy !
•  In my street I go from lane to lane from the brick house the shops that are closed..
• And in the evening the rain that one can not contain the dampness, 
• The silvery shining rain, all the colours of a rainbow, 
• Green yellow orange and blue can you sing a rainbow........
• You could hear the silence in the falling dew ,
• Falling silently as if time was through..for me for you!! 
• The tenderness of the night softly so softly as we kiss and love 
• Our minds oblivious care not about anything.. ,
• whilst waiting at the bus stop  
• I think not am wrong you have changed with time .
• The story's anew the couple the visitor as they waited at tram stop ..
• Like the story about this city of yours, were amongst those story's..
• And the dew, I touching feeling for you as I whisper in the night, my words to you 
• Touching you in the cold of a winters night. We're all soaked in dew .
• And the warmth much needed as your hands I touch,  finding myself within your hands,
• As we listen to the story's ..We stand laughing loving..
• The singularity of my being which gave me my pride.
• Can one have too much pride my love ..
• To have you completely, you becoming mine.
•  The sleeping conductor of that passing tram, its bells ringing. 
• I dropping slowly at the next stop , walking across peering into the Cafe 
• Like sleepless souls sipping their coffee. I've become obsessive in my madness,
• And I know each and everyone of them..And then there's always you..
• The madness in my blood my mind my very soul..In the moonlight as you get down to sleep,
• My loneliness is such I can bare not as you close your eyes leaving me,
• Looking at you as you breathe softly dreaming smiling as you sleep.
• I took paper and pen, thinking of writing to you..
• But that night standing at the bus stop, kissing with the scent of you the very scent of you... 
• Wilst the dust settle down again..By the light of the street I find myself sitting writing to you,
• Something I have written not, in full dew the road I write until you soft footsteps I hear approaching, 
• From the last tram arriving at the midnight as I sit waiting for love.. 
• With the approaching of the midnight tram..