News2 mins ago
A Bard's Valentine's Poem To The Ab Gals
54 Answers
The things about AB women we appreciate
May seem indelicate:
We'd like to find you in Mrs O’s shower
And chase the Sunny soap for half an hour.
We'd like to have you in our power
And see your gorgeous Prudie eyes dilate.
We'd like to have your naked bananas back to scour
And other juicy parts to lubricate.
Sometimes we feel it is our fate
To chase you screaming up a Nungate tower
Or make you Editor cower
By asking you to differentiate
Desktop from Mollie
We'd like successfully to guess your weight
And win you at a MoFC fête.
We'd like to offer you a Daisy Nonna flower.
We like the Alba hair upon your lgc shoulders,
Falling like sloopy water over joolsy boulders.
We like the Jogger shoulders too: they are essential.
Your chrissa wenchie collar-bones have great Eccles potential
(We'd like your particulars in Barmaid folders
Marked maidup and Confidential).
We like your Evian cheeks, We like your MadMen nose,
We like the way your sibbo (pysbbo) lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your tenrec teeth
(Half above and half siralec beneath)
In rows.
We like your intense eyes, we like their vakayu fringes.
The way they focus on us gives us notafish twinges.
Your arms drive us moonraker berserk.
We like the way your elbows mojo work.
On The Builder’s hinges.
We like your molliemoo wrists, we like your Lottie glands,
We like the em10 fingers on your cocinelle hands.
We'd like to teach them how to caran count,
And certain mrs.mav things we might Peter Pedant exchange,
Something boaty familiar for something welshie strange.
We'd like to give you just the right craftie amount
And get some grasscarpy change.
We like it when you tilt your TOH singing cheek up.
We like the way you dive-girl and hold an Ann teacup.
We like your Lady J legs when you unwind them.
Even in JTH trousers we don't mind them.
We like each softly-moulded starby kneecap.
We like the little grumpy crease behind them.
We'd always know, without a daffy recap,
Where to find those giveups.
We like the sara bum sculpture and your tinksy ears.
We like the way your bakersdozen lingerie disappears
Whenever you decide to turn and lankeela face us.
We'd like to cross two mallyh hemispheres
And have you erin chase us.
We'd like to smuggle you across Tilly frontiers
Or seadogg sail with you at night into Bognor or Tangiers.
We'd like you voulez to embrace us.
We'd like to see you gness-ironing your skirt
And cancelling other tinks restaurant dates.
No rsvps please but just the real ladybird gal
We'd like to button up ttfn your shaney shirt.
We like the way your sparkles chest inflates.
We'd like to soothe you nettie when your toes hurt
Or frightened Boo senseless by popple invertebrates.
We'd like you even if you were fredkins maligned
And had a magsmay yen for sudden trollish homicide.
We'd let you put ratter insecticide
Into our Caroline wine.
We'd even like you if you were a Rowan Bride
Of Cazzy-Frankenstein
Or something ghoulish out of MamaLynne-oulian's
Jeza and Hyde.
We'd even like you as our goatish Tony or Julian
Or Whitby, Kent or Maggiebee ni Mrs Chappie Houlihan.
How Lady A or flob-a-dob melodramatic
If you were joking in Jemisa comedy attics
Like Eccles or students of Factor
Mathematics.
You are the end of dotty self-abuse.
You are the eternal Boxie feminine.
We'd like to find a china-doll excuse
To call on you in slinkily and find you tenrec in.
We'd like to put our hand beneath your carakeel chin,
And see your Voddie grin.
We'd like to taste your icemaiden Charlotte Russe,
We'd like to feel our smowy lips upon your fgt skin
We'd like to make you Sqad reproduce.
We'd like you in our Owd confidence.
We'd like to be your wendilla spacey look.
We’ d like to let you try the Pastafreak Defence
And mate you with our Trigs rook.
We'd like to be naomi’s preference
And sherrard logic hence
We'd like to be around when you, minty, unhook.
We'd like to be your only headwreck audience,
The final tambo name in your AB appointment book,
Your future Chatterbank tense.
May seem indelicate:
We'd like to find you in Mrs O’s shower
And chase the Sunny soap for half an hour.
We'd like to have you in our power
And see your gorgeous Prudie eyes dilate.
We'd like to have your naked bananas back to scour
And other juicy parts to lubricate.
Sometimes we feel it is our fate
To chase you screaming up a Nungate tower
Or make you Editor cower
By asking you to differentiate
Desktop from Mollie
We'd like successfully to guess your weight
And win you at a MoFC fête.
We'd like to offer you a Daisy Nonna flower.
We like the Alba hair upon your lgc shoulders,
Falling like sloopy water over joolsy boulders.
We like the Jogger shoulders too: they are essential.
Your chrissa wenchie collar-bones have great Eccles potential
(We'd like your particulars in Barmaid folders
Marked maidup and Confidential).
We like your Evian cheeks, We like your MadMen nose,
We like the way your sibbo (pysbbo) lips disclose
The neat arrangement of your tenrec teeth
(Half above and half siralec beneath)
In rows.
We like your intense eyes, we like their vakayu fringes.
The way they focus on us gives us notafish twinges.
Your arms drive us moonraker berserk.
We like the way your elbows mojo work.
On The Builder’s hinges.
We like your molliemoo wrists, we like your Lottie glands,
We like the em10 fingers on your cocinelle hands.
We'd like to teach them how to caran count,
And certain mrs.mav things we might Peter Pedant exchange,
Something boaty familiar for something welshie strange.
We'd like to give you just the right craftie amount
And get some grasscarpy change.
We like it when you tilt your TOH singing cheek up.
We like the way you dive-girl and hold an Ann teacup.
We like your Lady J legs when you unwind them.
Even in JTH trousers we don't mind them.
We like each softly-moulded starby kneecap.
We like the little grumpy crease behind them.
We'd always know, without a daffy recap,
Where to find those giveups.
We like the sara bum sculpture and your tinksy ears.
We like the way your bakersdozen lingerie disappears
Whenever you decide to turn and lankeela face us.
We'd like to cross two mallyh hemispheres
And have you erin chase us.
We'd like to smuggle you across Tilly frontiers
Or seadogg sail with you at night into Bognor or Tangiers.
We'd like you voulez to embrace us.
We'd like to see you gness-ironing your skirt
And cancelling other tinks restaurant dates.
No rsvps please but just the real ladybird gal
We'd like to button up ttfn your shaney shirt.
We like the way your sparkles chest inflates.
We'd like to soothe you nettie when your toes hurt
Or frightened Boo senseless by popple invertebrates.
We'd like you even if you were fredkins maligned
And had a magsmay yen for sudden trollish homicide.
We'd let you put ratter insecticide
Into our Caroline wine.
We'd even like you if you were a Rowan Bride
Of Cazzy-Frankenstein
Or something ghoulish out of MamaLynne-oulian's
Jeza and Hyde.
We'd even like you as our goatish Tony or Julian
Or Whitby, Kent or Maggiebee ni Mrs Chappie Houlihan.
How Lady A or flob-a-dob melodramatic
If you were joking in Jemisa comedy attics
Like Eccles or students of Factor
Mathematics.
You are the end of dotty self-abuse.
You are the eternal Boxie feminine.
We'd like to find a china-doll excuse
To call on you in slinkily and find you tenrec in.
We'd like to put our hand beneath your carakeel chin,
And see your Voddie grin.
We'd like to taste your icemaiden Charlotte Russe,
We'd like to feel our smowy lips upon your fgt skin
We'd like to make you Sqad reproduce.
We'd like you in our Owd confidence.
We'd like to be your wendilla spacey look.
We’ d like to let you try the Pastafreak Defence
And mate you with our Trigs rook.
We'd like to be naomi’s preference
And sherrard logic hence
We'd like to be around when you, minty, unhook.
We'd like to be your only headwreck audience,
The final tambo name in your AB appointment book,
Your future Chatterbank tense.
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