Vera M Lacey, a lady who entered the Miss She Competitionon several occasions, wrote this poem in 1973. Thanks to Ron Stanway for submitting it to the website. Ron has kept hold of the poem for so long as he was the trainer referred to in the poem!
They came from every city,
Seventy gorgeous girls.
Some were dark and some were fair,
And some had golden curls.
Each lady wore her smartest clothes,
Her most attractive hat.
They picked at food most daintily,
For fear of getting fat.
Each lady was an artist's joy,
A pleasure to behold.
Each one is saying "if I win",
What joy my life will hold.
They came to Butlin's happily,
Sheer joy shone on their faces.
Until they met their trainer,
Who put them through their paces.
He made them take walks long and short,
And trot for many a mile.
He taught them how to pose and turn,
And even how to smile.
He told them "The judges can't eat you",
But they sit there like gods in the sky.
While every trembling entrant feels,
Transfixed by every eye.
So cheer the winners heartily,
They earned this honour well.
But please applaud the losers too,
I know, they've been through hell.