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.
