Seasons apart

There was a young, happy couple that appeared to have it all,
the girl was cute and bubbly, the boy was strong and tall.

Women often frowned at the girl’s sheer joy,
furious they missed out on such a perfect boy.

Whilst men would kick and curse and swear
that they couldn’t see the girl in her underwear.

Now on the surface this couple was ace,
but during the summer a struggle they did face.

You see, the girl, all sweet and pretty and fun,
was a bronzed, little angel who loved bathing in the sun.

But the boy, for rhyming purposes let’s call him Mark,
preferred winter months, hidden in the dark.

Mark was cursed with pale, pathetic, weak skin
and a single ray of light would boil his chin.

He just didn’t care about the benefits of vitamin D,
and would pray they could relax and simply watch TV.

But his sun-thirsty girlfriend, let’s call her Daisy,
loved being outside and thought Mark was just lazy.

On any bright day Mark would wake up and moan,
awaiting Daisy’s texts that would surely be on his phone.

Things like: “Hey there lazy, the sun’s finally shining,
get your shorts on, it’s time for picnic dining.”

More often than not he’d think of a lie;
a way to avoid it, without making her cry.

Things like: “Sorry darlin’, I’m on my way to see mum.”
She need not know he was at home on his bum.

This cat and mouse chase went on for months and days,
until a sun-kissed morn when Daisy wanted some rays.

It was 32 degrees and she was determined to go out,
so she stormed up to Mark’s and confronted the lout.

“Right then, Mark,” she delivered with a scream,
we’re going to the park, grab your sun cream.

Mark yelled and moaned, not once, twice, but thrice,
until Daisy kicked his shin and convinced him it’d be nice.

The young, happy couple lay for hours in the park,
Daisy was proud she’d persuaded stubborn Mark.

But as she opened her eyes to check on her fellow,
she was instantly sick and no longer mellow.

Instead of her boyfriend, who she wanted to cuddle,
lay a melted corpse; a kind of burnt, fleshy puddle.

Daisy wept and longed for her man,
until a bronzed, muscly bloke,
complimented her tan.

© Carl Burkitt 2013

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