There once was a time when I felt quite omniscient,
eminent master of all my domain.
I sowed my oats wildly and every kiss I sent
met with the plea: “Oh, please do it again!”
In days of my youth in one pure state of bliss I went
gambolling freely in meadows of luurve,
and, hand on my heart, I say each fair recipient
swore that my lips were a fountain of verve.
But sadly, alas, all my romping was transient,
nipped in the bud just as I hit my stride
when passion unleashed met a damsel insouciant,
scorning my gifts and deflating my pride.
Entrapped by this vixen, I cried “Let me loose I want
freedom once more to distribute my charms!”
She said “Listen, sonny, I’m not a subservient
simpering doll who’ll collapse in your arms,
so get with the plan, for the years as a Miss I’ve spent
tell me the lessons important in life…
if you want a ticket to heaven, not discontent,
buy me a ring and then make me your wife!”
David
