Jane can't tell me if her hands

Are trembling with emotion

Of grief or fear or joy.



Jane looks down at her brown shoes.

She knows that the shine upon them

Should please someone like you.



Someone like you would like to take Jane off

To run on sands so white.

To buy her boat trips if you could

And watch her drink tea.



Jane can't tell me if her heart

Is racing with emotion

Of grief or fear or joy.