A Saturday Afternoon

A female chick, ageless

with big brown eyes

lost on a Saturday afternoon,

in Bolton, a social and cultural town

Drawn to a corner book-shop,

meticulous, well- merchandised

packing a powerful punch.

This is Waterstones.

Books, carefully reviewed

Appreciative customers,

spending hours browsing

A mini-tale on each jacket

A tale of woe or adventure

Horror or science-fiction

But for her, only romance will do,

corny she knows.

A guilty read, comfortable chick-lit

Or more kindly referred to, as

‘contemporary modern romance’

Paws the pages, gently and lovingly

Admiring each, bold character

Secretly smiling, entranced,

she has to buy it.

Best of all, on the top floor

Lies, that secret warm attractor

That coffee aroma, finest beans

A simple Americano, the best

A perfect accompaniment  

A quiet recess, a competitive spot,

here and now, in Waterstones