Limited View From A Dentists Basement Window Poem by Thomas Golding

Hurrying by fast or slow
Thin legs stout legs
Trousered or bare
Skirts to the ankles
Skirts to the knees
Others high as vanity permits
As generations before
Wisdom would conceal
Some are not wise.

Not so black stockings
Tapping her sensible lace ups
Between flexing of knees
Framed in the basement window
Shapely within the seamless tubes
Supporting the well rounded end
Moving in little arcs
Angry with the rogue
Keeping her waiting.

At least I can speculate
As blue jeans arrives legs apart
Hands outstretched
In abject surrender
Black stockings on tip toes
Handbag clutched in martial stance
Bottom swishing tigress
Prepared to leap.

Blue jeans has a rare gift
They depart hand in hand
As sparrows pounce
On a discarded crust.
Twenty minutes past appointment time
Dentists should give discounts
For being late
I don't feel as forgiving
As black stockings.

A small child peers through the window
And pulls a face at me
I pull a fierce one back
Squalling in outrage she points
As a maternal hand grabs her arm
And hauls her away still yelling.
Score one for me.

'Mr Brown can see you now.'
A voice from a dragon in white
Glaring at me in outrage
Black stockings
Would not fit well on this one.