Homely in an artful way,
I wear suits as grey as October rain
And rent rooms in homes
Where children blow bubbles
In prickly grass roll just
To please an inner glee
Heads crowned with leaves
 
In my diaries I voice
A pointless quest to find love
In winds upon a park bench,
Quickly turning pages of
Romance novels, all nonsense
And frill at the throat, kisses
Baiting surrender with fur coats
And ardent laughter taking the self
 
If someone turned my way,
There is the rented room
And one dress I have saved,
But he would only want tea
And advise on Juliette,
Who arrives in chapter three.

— Judith Croxford