Form: English Quintain
It is sugar and spice that makes them nice,
So says the rhyme from nursery school days,
No mention is made of the eyes of ice,
And impish smiles of a mischief at play
What makes them who thrives in their boyish ways?
Perhaps the sugar-coated puppy tails
Fell in whilst stirring the DNA pot
Soft lace and ribbons and painted fingernails
That then tinker with bikes and greasy grot
The way of all things nice - oh no it’s not!