Mr Polar Bear

Mr Polar Bear, I’ve fallen in love
and every Saturday, I’m there for you.
I bring my lunch inside a paper bag,
greaseproof squared, like homemade food.

And I sit, like snow, in our usual place,
on the long wooden bench in front of you
and I eat my sandwiches and my cake,
the portion for one, but I bring us two.

And I know you don’t like to look at me,
pretend not to notice I’m even there
but I’ve brought you from Iceland some Scampi,
some frozen tea and a packet of pears.

Mr Polar Bear Love who I visit
My coming’s not weird, or is it?

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