To hell with Leviticus, I’m going to do it.
My body’s my own if I want to tattoo it.

I’ve saved up some money so mum needn’t know,
Well…..not quite just yet,
Not ’til after I go.

I might get a dragon, or maybe a cupid,
Or ‘I love Lachlan’ – no that would be stupid.
What if he dump’s me? I’d wish I was dead.
Maybe I’ll just get my nose pierced instead.

I’ve saved up some money so dad needn’t know.
Well …… not quite just yet,
Not ’til after I go.

Tricia Simmons

Cautiously
creeping
down
the stairs,
carefully avoiding the creaks,
we stop
and take each other’s hand.

At the bottom
we tiptoe,
trembling
towards the door.
Almost afraid to breathe
we slowly,
gently,
push it open.

Beneath the twinkling tree lights
sit the gifts.
‘He’s been,’ we whisper,
‘He’s been.’