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YOUR POEM; Leg Ends.

They were out again, back on parade, The finest legs God ever made, 'Cause the sun came out, So beggar the shade, It was time to shake a leg.

All those blanched legs, milk bottle legs, And saucy, sizzling, salsa legs, The stilted legs, kilted legs, High and mighty, Paris Hilton legs, And even some varicose veined, Blue stilton legs, Peeping out from the shorts and skirts, Reserved for package holidays, As it was time to bake a leg.

There were joggers' legs, reef knotted legs And tottering, hot gossip legs, With lacquered nails, And laced Roman sandals, a la Med, Going as red as radishes, Amongst the dripping, "Gone for a paddle legs," And spray tanned, mocha coffee legs, Drenched in sun block cream, As it was time to baste a leg.

And there were the office workers, On their al fresco, lunch time breaks, Forsaking their desks for park benches, And the sun's ultra violet rays, Flashing their La Senza, "Good Bye to winter legs," Ready to barbecue in the blaze.

But, "Tomorrow," they say, "The sun will be gone," So we'll all be back To wearing tights and socks, And Factor One!

by Terry Clarke, Liverpool 18

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Publication:Liverpool Echo (Liverpool, England)
Date:May 13, 2018
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