14 Sonnet

Was eight past eight when came the morning train
As under wintry skies onboard she went
Black boots beige coat played out the so mundane
But this was no run of the mill ascent
For as she got onboard her scarf so fell
without her knowing it was then in hand
A man had picked it up and just as well
For now he went to her and made his stand
Returning it to where she had sat down
A blush, a smile, thank you was sent his way
He stood, quite still and felt much like a clown
Could not utter a word as off he made
When next they met upon their morning trials
They saw each others eyes and traded smiles