I think a lover I may take.
No! Not a future husband make!
Alas the wedding cup, once filled
Was quickly drunk, or faster spilled.
A greater challenge lies ahead
For him that falls with me in bed.
The first heroic test’s complete
At laboured breath and tautened teat.
And then the second test, the kiss
Must needs induce a state of bliss.
That state of heavy melting hips,
Of swelling, tingling, pouting lips.
The third and final test will come
To many hopeful, fewer won.
Its bars are quickly memorized
And artful playing’s highly prized,
But only he will reign supreme
With variations on a theme.
Poetry Croft 