Song On Blue Paper (Poetry)

He sat there in the corner seat
His coffee getting cold
A battered case propped by his feet
Its much-travelled leather old
And from its shape she knew it held
The true love of his life —
That guitar was the world to him
Friend, lover, child and wife

She watched him write a line or two
Then scratch them out again
She noticed how he frowned and chewed
The top of that cheap pen
And when at last he paused to sip
And found the drink was chill
He’d look across and call to her
To bring a fresh refill

Years later she would tell the tale
She’d watched him write that song
Scrawled rough on sky-blue paper
His famous number one
Oblivious to her — he
Never guessed how her heart sang
Those magic seaside mornings
When the café doorbell rang

As regular as clockwork
And he sat composing there
Dead cool in jeans and cowboy boots
And dark sleep-tousled hair
Her one regret was all those words
She never got to say
For suddenly the chance was lost
When fame tore him away