She leaves me little kisses on the back of my Rich Teas,
An extra-special Ginger Nut from o’er the China Seas,
She strokes my cup and silver spoon and whispers in my ear,
I’ve saved the best jam tart for you, beloved, never fear.
Yet I do not even know her name but just her occupation,
I see her once at tea-break time and sometimes at the station,
She’s hid behind a cloud of steam, a sullen boiler’s hiss,
And yet she gives her heart to me, her smile, her soul, her bliss.
So I pass my empty cup along, the row of scribbling clerks,
She holds it to her beating heart, like molten Cupid’s darts,
I meet her eye, I shyly smile, she whispers, love you, Roger,
And on my desk a Bourbon Cream and Raspberry Jammy Dodger.