her heroines are normal girls
modest, demure, ladies all
(excepting lizzie)
sweet, pretty and witty
no patience for brazen hussies
and loose women
has jane
her heroes aren’t all dashing —
country curate? penniless parson?
proud yet noble gentleman
worth so many pounds and sixpence per annum?
upon wicked wickhams
and threatening thorpes
jane frowns
—
alas and alack,
we can not all be heroes and heroines
from out the pages of yesteryear
—
i sing instead a song
of a girl loquacious yet shy
(a girl too normal to be noticed)
and the black-browed barista boy
who unknowingly captured her fancy
and from whom she no longer buys coffee
(being too embarrassed now to talk to him)
—
such is my sordid song of un-romance
a coffee boy and happenstance
if you choose to stick with jane
i shall not mind
