A Local Girl, From A Local Village
You wouldn’t write a song about her eyes.
While they’re perfectly fine globs,
they’re hampered by their knack of forever being covered,
By sheets of glass, magnifying her sight and as a result,
You wouldn’t make a statue of her smile.
Partly, in truth, because you’d never get it commissioned.
But mainly because her smile is an odd thing to highlight.
It’s far too gummy, and makes her feel silly in photos
and always seems to appear whenever I'm not looking.
You wouldn’t paint a picture of her brain.
It's far bigger than the A3 we’ve got out back.
Besides the fact that our 4 year old powder paints
and the non stick PVA we cling to
have all run the expiry.
To condense it down to a picture would be silly,
so don’t try it pal.
Don’t you even dare.
We’d go outside the lines,
get it on the carpet and up the walls
and even then wouldn’t do it justice.
She’s just a local girl, from a local village,
and while that might not sound like enough.
Maybe it is.