She is cream

Swirled into Irish coffee

Cool, sensous

Aesthetically pleasing

Air of self containment

Prohibits my approach

I watch from a distance

Unwilling to encroach

Dresses in vintage clothing

Art Deco attire

Swirling, flowing lines

I cannot help but admire

Enters the cafè at midday

Orders tea and toast

Always the same meal

My staple is roast

We sit in respective corners

Lost in individual thought

Occasionally our eyes meet

Her's, striking peridot

Today she wanders over

My heart misses a beat

Carries her plate, cup

Takes the opposite seat

By Margaret Karim

From: United Kingdom