Leandra She used to live where the road forked, A hundred yards from my front door. She had hair that fluffed and waved and folded And I knew that it would engulf me If I could get near enough – Near enough to Leandra. She’d flounce and bounce down Morland Avenue, Past our house, called ‘Avisford’, she’d flow And I wanted to go – I wanted to know, I wanted to show how good we could be If only I could be With Leandra One day I got up the nerve To walk the light-year of tarmac with a gift, A brand new, seven-inch single melting in my hand. Ten paces I took, then he roared up – And swept her, like a git, from her front door – The front door of Leandra. How on earth could she go with him? She and I were just sixteen and full of promise. He was so much older than we – Nineteen and with a motorbike – so old – so unfair That he would get to drown in all that hair The hair of ..... Leandra.  ©  AlBarz, 2004