With his suit the colour of soot,
Was he the one I'd loved, head over foot?
If so, he hasn't changed one bit:
Aristocratic, solemn and a hint of wit.

Staring him down,noticing his arm
Draped around a woman, oozing charm.
I recognise the look on her face:
Certainty that he could never be replaced.

He holds the reigns around his soft finger
Whilst locking his hard gaze on her. 
A woman can forget about leaving him;
He leaves women spellbound and flustered within.