On meeting another dog-walker,
a little embarrassed, we’d say:
“Vera, but we didn’t choose it for her.”
And it is the name of a sturdy lass
from a workingmen’s club,
in a shipyard town.
Or of the shameless gossip
in a Les Dawson skit,
or from Beryl Cook’s brush.
And our Vera certainly is robust,
barging through knotted undergrowth
ignoring thorn, trench, gulley or risk.
Or, sometimes they’d say:
“Oh, like Vera Wang?”
(I admit I had to Google her).
So, from time to time we’d wonder
shall we change her name to Ava?
You did have a thing for Ava.
And, of course it would suit her better.
Ava is a black-eyed curvy broad,
with a steady gaze and filthy intent.
And isn’t Vera our Barefoot Contessa?
When the feathers are strewn and the running's done
she slinks away - a conquering siren.
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