I Like Buying Clothes, Especially As I

On Waterloo Bridge Where We Said Our Goodbyes, The Weather Conditions Bring Tears To My Eyes. I Wipe Them Away With A Black Woolly Glove And Try Not To Notice I've Fallen In Love On Waterloo Bridge I Am Trying To Think: This Is Nothing. You're High On The Charm And The Drink. But The Juke-box Inside Me Is Playing A Song That Says Something Different. And When Was It Wrong? On Waterloo Bridge With The Wind In My Hair I Am Tempted To Skip. You're A Fool. I Don't Care. The Head Does Its Best But The Heart Is The Boss- I Admit It Before I Am Halfway Across

My Heart Has Made Its Mind Up And I'm Afraid It's You.

The Interesting Thing Is That You Don't Often Meet A Poet Who Doesn't Have A Sense Of Humour, And Some Of Them Do Keep It Out Of Their Poems Because They're Afraid Of Being Seen As Light Versifiers.

Some Socks Are Loners They Can't Live In Pairs.

I Always Tell Students That Writing A Poem And Publishing It Are Two Quite Separate Things, And You Should Write What You Have To Write, And If You're Afraid It's Going To Upset Someone, Don't Publish It.