Her eyes were like eyes,
her mouth like a mouth,
she wore my heart
like a metaphor.

Her knickers were white,
occasionally, they were blue,
the red ones with lace
were too much to bear.

She said
"That's not fur"
Instead of fair,
"Nur"
Instead of no,
and no,
when I longed for yes.

The teacher said I was quiet,
my mum said
it would be different
when I'd turned six,
but I knew better.

©Joe Fearn