(Warning: This starts by being crude, then rude, and then becomes *eek!* love-letters.)

When women are in Qs for Ps,
Do mind your Ps and Qs –
They do become a bit B chi
When waiting for their loos.

 They can be centred on an I
A great deal more than U –
But when on I they can’t get by,
Then ME will have to do.

 When ‘male’ has ‘F e’ on the word
It’s not as F they iron –
The FEE to keep them which occurred
Makes men scream like a siren!

 All females suffer from the G
That pulls them down up top –
Which might well need a cup marked D
Such downward drag to stop.

 Another G low down you’ll C –
String shows a lot of flesh –
And that is Y, quite frequently,
The men B come too fresh!

 They’ll try to take a D-tour, too,
And help the G to B
By trying catches to undo,
And let what’s there go free.

 And females there who R an X
May well just let them try –
It’s L not having any sex
When marriage goes awry!

 And they’ll invite him home for T,
In hopes, one must confess,
That if they offer, ‘T or me?’
To both he’ll answer, ‘S!’

 *meerkat packs to go into retreat for a while*

 © Colonialist February 2011 (Letterdash/Wordpress)

About colonialist

Active septic geranium who plays with words writing fantasy novels and professionally editing, with notes writing classical music, and with riding a mountain bike, horses and dinghies. Recently Indie Publishing has been added to this list.
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