Golden Dove of the East

A Cockney Love Poem My unrequited golden dove, you are a merchant banker them bloomin' groovy bars are sad tonight but given the chance I wouldda gotten cash & carried & spent me porridge knife loving your mince pies had I not known you'd treat me golden dove thus & yes, been your trouble & strife with all me Horse & cart....... I know, not smart I know, not smart But here in the East, where the Bow Bells chime We dance to the beat of a love so prime You're me apple and pear, in these cobbled streets Where me heart skips a beat, to your laugh so sweet On the Thames, love, our story's charted Two East End souls, never to be parted