Doris Darbyshire


Andrew, just Andrew,
With his lovely freckled nose,
On the cutest little face,
Ever seen in Windsor Close.

His twinkling eyes, and beaming smile,
Would harder hearts than ours beguile.

He came with Michelle, who had a request,
That we sponsor her for a dancing test.

And never an escort prouder than he,
As she stated her errand and made her plea.

We studied the form but questioned her skill,
And ability the test to fulfill.

Oh – of course she could do it, as everyone knew,
And nodding wisely, assented Andrew.

We filled in the form, how much on this dancer,
And quickly she reckoned, and gave us the answer.

We gave them the money, our hearts they stole,
Departing in glee more names to enroll.

But their presence remained, is with us yet,
For that shining hour we cannot forget.

And their eager young faces so wondrous to see,
Will stay forever in our memory.

So surely for them the future will hold,
Great Expectations, for life to unfold.

Michelle, already we had assessed,
Now Andrew, just Andrew, our thoughts possessed.

What would he become? What trade? what profession?,
A builder, accountant?, maybe electrician.

But whatever he chooses, he always will be,
A lovable fellow, and ‘True Escortee.’

Notes on this poem

Written in 1980.