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She removed the long fruit from her lunch bag of brown,
As the boys in her class held their breath,
Each day they would wait for lunchtime to come ‘round,
Then they’d fix their attention on Beth.
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Slowly but surely, removing the peel,
Well aware of the eyes all upon her,
Licking her lips, it was hard to conceal,
The allure of Miss Bethany Bronner.
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Her tongue deftly guided the fruit to her mouth,
Too enticing a gesture, perhaps,
For the boys felt a slight stirring just to the south,
And they all moved their books to their laps.
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Buttercup's House 