Anyone can make a mistake
Four has always been my lucky number
fourth of the fourth doubly so
forty-four plus four years ago
I reluctantly returned
from a weekend with a school friend
for a youth club visit.
Fifty-nine club,
Ton-up vicar,
Lambeth
Open-mouthed at Mods
Spotted dresses
Shoulder-twitching
Head down circling
Bags on floor.
Not us!
We laughed together
Danced and smiled and talked.
Snogged on the coach all the way home
Fell into a rosebush
And he asked me out.
My Dad said ‘Prospects?, ‘A’ levels?’
And ‘not on his motorbike!’
And I replied
‘just the pictures, that’s all!
I’m not going to marry the man!’
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