I’ll never forget the day that I met Dawn from Didcot.

Her eyes like pools of fire, all watery and bloodshot.

 

I found her reminiscent of all of the four seasons.

For a very wide and varied number of notable reasons.

 

She was Reminiscent of Spring time, of April showers and dew.

Because every time she Shpoke, she shpat all over you.

 

She reminded me of Winter, of icicles and snows.

Because two snotty stalactites dangled daintily from her nose.

 

She was reminiscent of Autumn, of when the leaves fall from the trees.

Because her wig slipped from her head and blew off in the breeze.

 

Dawns strongest like was Summer, of this seasons lazy heat.

For she had the hottest body these eyes have ever seen.

 

Her vital statistics summed up to a perfect ten.

I was young, I let her go, I knew little back then.

 

But as I’ve got wiser, and as I’ve got older.

I realise that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

 

And the wisdom I’ve gained is, when boils down to desire.

You don’t look at the mantlepiece when your poking the fire.

 

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