Isn’t life strange?
There we were at the hotel
Sitting in the restaurant
Eating our breakfast.
There were guests around us,
All booked in for a few days.
On the table next to us were a couple,
We got chatting,
Became quite friendly,
But then it happened.
He mentioned the city,
The city in which I was raised,
And then he mentioned an area,
An area in Gillingham,
It was called Poets Corner.
He lived there,
As did I,
We had both lived in the same road
About forty years in our past.
As we chatted
We both went to the same dance school.
We had never met until this time,
This time on the Isle of Wight.
It took us both back
To those memories of so long ago,
Where we had been brought up
So many years ago.
Isn’t life strange?