Peter Pan

A crisp, cold morning in Hyde Park, and he is waiting for his date. As joggers jog and poodles bark, the girl's unconscionably late. He paces London's crocused heart, as traffic booms in Piccadilly: he's practicing that English art of seeming calm, while feeling silly. One final tryst beside the lake, in front of the Eternal Boy: a parting kiss, for old times' sake ... she's stood him up? Or playing coy? The hotel clerk purrs sympathy when summoned on the mobile phone. By now, she'll be in Duty Free. Well, there it is. This Bird Has Flown. He tries to feign the jaunty airs of a striped suit on a sandwich sortie, but doing drily debonaire's not easy when you're fat and forty. He tramps the lonely, flat green mile to Green Park Tube's unlovely portal, but perks up with a cheeky smile - well, for a week he was immortal!

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Darren White

Date: 3/7/2017 5:21:00 AM

Forgot to add it to favourites and giving it a 7. Consider it done now :)

Michael Coy
Date: 3/7/2017 6:45:00 AM

Thank you, my friend!

Darren White

Date: 3/6/2017 2:02:00 PM

Seeming calm, but feeling silly :) Did she play Coy? This is so funnily sad, and so understandable too. One week immortality, one Eternal Boy.... And the English Art too of keeping a fake smile plastered on your face while internally you sort of die..... A sad but wonderfully endearing poem

Michael Coy
Date: 3/6/2017 4:44:00 PM

Very good, Darren. Playing Coy - who else would even get that joke? Thank you for seeing the sadness, getting the wry humor ... and generally being so sensitive and so bright.