New in London, girl seeks roof top garden:
modish, bright apartment, urban bargain,
should fulfil loft living aspiration,
must have lift, can’t deal with perspiration.
She wants to host romantic tête-à-tête
she’s optimistic, thinking real estate,
dreams of double french not dormer window,
or even hall with pillared portico.
She finds, in fact, small Euston attic room,
puts up with leaky fridge and sonic boom.
A bijou starter pad, some natural light,
high level costly roost, up extra flight.
Undaunted, she casts wide her social net
and wonders if Prince Harry’s taken yet.