On Waterloo Bridge by Wendy Cope

Feeling wistful today and thought I’d share my favourite poem, which I’ve been meaning to do for months and months and months. I discovered this when studying for my SATS in year 9! God bless Wendy Cope for saving me from the boredom and sleep induced coma brought about by a female poet whose name I cannot remember:

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.