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My Timex intervened I sat down and wrote a letter to a girl I do not know, an imaginary figure With her hair up in a bow. A pretty little Waistline, in high heels five foot nine A work of art in all her parts, so easy On the eye
I made up an address and sent my Letter by first class, in England that Means next day so she should have Got it fast. I chuckled at my silliness But then came my surprise, when she Wrote back and said her train arrives At half past five
Imagine my excitement, there was Magic in the air, a crowded railway Station and the start of an affair. I Saw her in the distance, five foot Nine in jeans, running fast towards
Me when my Timex intervened
© Joseph G Dawson Vote for this poem
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