ODE TO DAWN (Bransholme '76)

You may recall an earlier poem, A DAY AT SCHOOL (Bransholme '76), discovered in the trunk I've been dumping stuff since finishing my state education at Bransholme High (and this) (and this) transitioned me into adulthood.

I wrote a lot of stuff then, for my own pleasure and the challenge of writing odes and poems "to order"; one of which I present now. If you happen to be the original recipient of "your order" and wish me to remove it, please drop me a line.

ODE TO DAWN (Bransholme '76)

In the sixth form Dawn's a must.

Is she a girl or a woman of lust?

Who cares, as long as she's there.

This woman of beauty, so fine and so fair.

Dawn has a hobby, have you heard?

Well I never, it's most absurd.

She I suppose could be called a glutton,

but all she's after is a fair sized button.

The trouble arises when it's your turn,

you submit to Dawn, you begin to burn.

With passion in her hands she rips at your shirt;

mission completed and you're in the dirt.

Dawn loons off, buttons and all,

she thinks it's lovely, a zany ball.

"With a hobby like that she'll be on parole",

but don't worry chaps, she'll be back to console.

With Dawn around just watch your shirt,

your P's and Q's; she's not just "skirt"!

Dawn's a ruthless but modest girl,

to us the sixth form; a mother of pearl.

The surname of Dawn eludes my now (50 years later Bellfield or French rings a bell, but not sure) and compared to earlier odes this ode is a bit twee and clunky, maybe because I was doing so many; the girls wanted a memento of our last year at school. Happy days!

Want another Bransholme ode?