Torvill And Dean: Cecilia Poem by Angela Wybrow

There she stands, playing it cool,
When, along comes a guy, who looks like a fool;
He's tall and skinny, and wearing round rimmed specs -
Not made out of muscle, sporting impeccable pecs.

He's impressed with her looks and her lovely smile,
But, she's not impressed with his distinct lack of style;
He's a bit of a nerd, so he's not very trendy,
But, he follows her round, trying to be all friendly.

As he edges towards her, she moves away,
But, unluckily for her, this Nerd's here to stay;
A tad awkward at first, he soon becomes bolder,
And he places an arm around her shoulder.

It's plain to see, by the look on her face,
That she's far from happy with him invading her space;
She twists away; she raises her knee;
He's too close for comfort, so she tries to break free.

But nothing works, and so, she gives in:
The Nerd, he is jubilant; he's so thrilled to win;
Kicking his legs in the air, he jumps high with joy:
He knows all too well that he's one lucky boy.

He knocks himself out, and falls on the floor:
He's so overjoyed, that he does it once more.
Then, together, they dance the night away:
They bust some cool moves; they boogie and sway.

The two of them seem to have forged a link,
As they boogie about in such perfect synch;
But, by the end of the night, she's changed her mind:
Deciding that the Nerd Is definitely not her kind.