Enter the pretty young things

With fresh faced blue jeaned legs

Their hair long and blond

Flowing free

Not yet tied back

Tied up

Not yet constrained

By babies, lovers, soft furnishings

Hard decisions and crushed dreams

 

Their conversation glittering awash

With all there is to do

Bags and coats

Eyes ablaze

With questions, thoughts and ideas

Not for them bright coloured packages tied up with string

Nor spotty faced Herbert’s

Too shy to offer suit, wary of words that sting

 

For them it is the real thing

For them it is sparkling eyes

 And nervous flashing smiles

For them bright carefully sprinkled, spoken words

For them at sixteen a brave new world

All too soon chased away

The college years