NOT AN ORDINARY LOVE
It isn't hearts and flowers that I remember
But the rosehip bridges of September
A fading clip and clop of platform clogs
The frosty terraced streets and secret snogs
Splintered benches where we used meet
The windy ginnels, February sleet
The bus-rides over hills to drab cafes
In market towns on winter Saturdays
Taking all account of push and shove
Ours was not an ordinary love
And working for a living at sixteen
Started young back then, we did, I mean
They don't these days – it's not encouraged now
Growing up seemed sooner then, somehow
It isn't Valentines though, I remember
But foggy evening lanes in late November
You in scoop-necks, me in baggy trousers
Staring at the rich folk in their houses
Plotting Premium Bond-wins, hand-in-glove
Ours was not an ordinary love.
– Nor an ordinary time at that
Your first driving lesson, my first flat
Three floors up, the bath, if you were willing
For a one-hour wait and had a shilling
'Seventies – it doesn't seem that long
What was that old Paul McCartney song?
C-Moon. Close to Christmas d'you recall
Arguing outside about it all?
Tears. And then the making of it right.
A far from ordinary night
And all the words I said , I meant and more.
To hang around as woodsmoke at your door
Till early spring, a promise on the breeze
The hazy green that ghosts across the trees
And fields waking up, on days like these
Then later, with the outdoor work begun
You, on a country station in the sun
Waiting on a Friday for the train
To bring your dusty boyfriend home again
Cheerful, after drinking with the guv
Ours was not an ordinary love.
Both of us at work – hard work as such
Twenties, you don't think about it much
Labourer and waitress of renown
Get stuck in, get paid and hit the town
Sod the others and their cold ambition
Were we not in love? We had a mission:
Have a brilliant time before we lost it.
Not sit down with abacus to cost it
In event of judgment from above.
Ours was not an ordinary love
As I said, it wasn't hearts and flowers
Rescuing Rapunzels from their towers
But an atmosphere of stolen hours
Idle shelter from those sudden showers
In museums, like paupers at a ball
Staring at the grandness of it all
Raincoat pockets, ticket stubs and tissues
In those carefree days were all our issues
Shabby pigeon and his scruffy dove
Ours was not an ordinary love
Never big occasions I remember
But the skint nights-in around December
One bar of a three-bar gas-fire, hissing
Lovers on an indoor sunbreak, kissing
Kitchen-trips for optional excursions
Making tea or switching on immersions
Caught by tipsy test card, unawares
Squaring to the challenge of the stairs
After taking stock of their location
Ours was not an average situation
Pop-star posters peeling on the wall
That's what I remember most of all
In the kitchen. making home-made wine
Quite forgot about the valentine
You due home in minutes, from your shift
Had to knock one up – and rather swift
Cardboard, paper, scissors and the glue
"Here's a new-wave Valentine for yo-ou!"
Blackmail typeface from a velvet glove
Ours was not an ordinary love
We never did the jet set stuff – not us
We opted for the railway or the bus
Over autumn moorlands to the sea
Round the ruined castle and some tea
Backstreet book-exchanges then a beer
Ironstone gorges, waterfall and weir
Beaches out-of-season, groynes and dunes
Marram grass and sandy afternoons
Westerlies to give the clouds a shove
Ours was not an ordinary love
Not the trifling trinkets that I bought you
But the courage which it took to court you
Having saddled up and got that far
Was I not your Co-Op Lochinvar?
You, my Happy Shopper Queen of Sheba?
Hair by Icarus and eyes by Biba
Aramis for me, Kiku for you
Fragrant then, if nothing else, we two.
Wrapped around each other when as supple
This was not an ordinary couple
This was not an ordinary caper
And it never made the local paper
In the pics we never looked our parts:
"Can we have you holding up your hearts?"
We never had the attitude or look
We never made the film or wrote the book
We never got our music on the shelves
And only ever famous to ourselves,
We both became recluses, didn't care
We were not an ordinary pair.
Now, if you find crows feet round your eyes
Or some piffling ounces on your thighs
And the hint of puckering round your lips
God forbid – a pound upon your hips
Not to ever notice is my game
Telling you, you've always looked the same
Or ignoring everything you've said
Pleading urgent business in my shed
Since I'll only see the things I can
Am I not an ordinary man?
Should the winter ambush, with no warning
Let me set your grate up in the morning
Let me get your breakfast, make your coffee
Fetch bad-weather brandy from the offy
Be your Greyfriars Bobby who would wait
Even if the reaper made you late
Challenge him for you, and if I find him
Follow down the corridor behind him
Raging with the insults I would hurl
This was not an ordinary girl!
Time has dragged the sentiment from in me
Fear of losing you will underpin me
So in lieu of others in the past then
Let this be my Valentine at last then
Up the wooden hills again and gladly
Let them know we didn't do too badly
When we went from darkness into light
Ours was not an ordinary flight
You are not an ordinary dove
Ours is not an ordinary love.