Legging It

When I was twelve
I fell hopelessly in love
with my English teacher's legs

I wrote a poem
about caramel blancmange
It was really about her
and I think she marked it
nine out of ten

I barely remember
the first line now
but I'm sure it was
as self indulgent as my taste buds
for a kid of that time

Handed in late
my next poem homework
was about getting high
and staying up all night

I totally lost myself
with some heavy hit
metaphoricals
and twirled a few cliches
very loosely around my pen

Miss said it was "evocative"
and gave me a ten

But it was too late
the crush was over by then
I'd started to write
about the girls in my class
swapping socks for stockings
like flowers in Spring
No wonder
I failed the exam