Monday 17 December 2012

You're Handsome. I'm Clever. We Could Be Happy Together. (Just don't speak)


A Limerick 

Dear Fellow, you tall handsome man, hasn’t anyone told you not to stand with your hand,
Stuck in your pocket holding your keys, ready to go with the easiest ease.
Well fellow, take note this is good for you, I’ve had a thought, I think I’ll come too.
We’ll jump in your car, or some other folk’s, and drive to a lake and... hmm folks.
Anyway you... you tall handsome man gripping your beer with your free hand,
Thankful for you, it’s a clear night. We’ll see some stars when we go for a drive.
We say we’ll see stars, and I may very well, what you’ll be looking at any could tell.
You see the thing about me, is obvious to see. I’d see it more, but that’s vanity.

I’ve flaming red hair, depending on the day, mind, at the end of six weeks it does start to fade.
I’ve got milk white skin, fresh and clean, depending on whether I’ve kept up my skincare routine.
I have startling blue eyes, with a bit of grey, depending on the weather and my mood on the day.
I have adorable freckles, which are kind of fun, problem is there’s enough to blot out the sun.
I’ve a shy, cheeky smile which I admit is a lie. I’m not that cheeky, and I’m certainly not shy.
I have a sultry laugh, like movie stars of old, although, generally only when I also have a cold.
I can run a mile and I like to swim, as long as by 'mile' you mean ‘ten metres’ and it’s a hot tub I’m in.
The truth is, fellow, I’m pretty ... plain, and the best bit about me (admittedly) is my brain.

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