Nobody Else's Girl
By Michael James Treacy
Published: October 26, 2007

I fell in love in Glasgow:
green eyes and lustrous, flowing hair.
It was the evocative way she said,
“Och, bonnie laddie… yer’ll dae fer now,”
that melted my heart,
but someone stole her from me
and she was somebody else’s girl.

I fell in love in Liverpool:
blue eyes and curly, golden hair.
It was the alluring way she said,
“Hey, Wack… keep yer ‘ands to yerself,”
that made me weak at the knees,
but she ran off with a foreign bloke
and she was somebody else’s girl.

I fell in love in Bradford:
hazel eyes and rich, auburn hair.
It was the teasing way she said,
“By ‘eck, lad… get tha’ kecks off,”
that inflamed my senses,
but she was too flighty by far
and she was somebody else’s girl.

I fell in love in London:
brown eyes and raven-black hair.
It was the beguiling way she said,
“Bladdy ‘ell, mate… up them apples ‘n’ pears,”
that caught my imagination,
but I was never good enough for her
and she was somebody else’s girl.

I fell in love in Birmingham:
bluey/greeny/browny eyes and mousy hair.
It was the matter-of-fact way she said,
“I ain’t got any other bugger… let’s goo fer it,”
that made me finally realise
she was the only one for me
and she was nobody else’s girl.

          Michael James Treacy claims that poetry is the vocabulary of his heart, soul, mind and occasionally his rear end. Please visit his website to confirm this... www.freewebs.com/michaeljamestreacy