First Kiss – by John Hurley

Her daddy was a wealthy man acquisitions,then some sackings
I came from a lower caste with social graces lacking
Maria was a lovely girl, good manners, middle class
Not a lot in common with the youth who cut the grass

And yet she smoked my woodbines, as we sat in the tool shed
Mam and Dad were often absent, with the busy life they led
I never called her by her name, usually just “Miss”
But one evening in a thunder storm I stole a naughty kiss

During lightning and torrential rain, she was a frightened lass
Never even slapped my face, said “Just stick to cutting grass”
So quickly I was disabused of my silly notions
People with her background have a grip on their emotions

The tempest was the trigger, my behaviour was quite crass
But then she had clung to me, like bad luck to a tinkers ass

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