If you were a t.v. you’d be 55 inches
because we all know size baby clinches.
If you were a cell phone you’d be a Samsung
but only because it rhymes with, well, hung.
If you were a bike – d’uh, a Harley
and of course she’d be your inflatable Barbie.
But honestly? Honey were you a skidoo
imagine the derring-do you’d get up to!
Thank god you’re merely a mortal
and the best you can do is to make her chortle.
Harry Bittercress’ anthesis annually astonishes
the dainty Lady Smock. Her perfect purple petals
were scolded do not settle, he’s but a common weed.
No, she didn’t listen and her pistils oh! they glisten’d
as ‘twixt the meadow and the scree
they dropped their hardy seeds
their wild and winsome progeny.
The pepper steak was a mad mistake
but so was the caribou stew.
Add to this the briefest bliss
of a tumultuous tiramisu,
plus cake and pop
and a generous glop
of whip cream and caramel goo
and I was done like dinner,
five pounds thinner.
Really, it was all worthwhile!
Despite being horrible,
despite being bad,
despite the pain and the trouble,
I learned a new word
one I’d never heard –
oh the collywobbles!