Fair Fiona, she stood by the duck pond.

Just yards away the boy would not respond

To the coquettish wriggling of her hips.

Unluckily he could not get to grips

With voicing correctly many a words

- He was tongue-tied when talking to the "birds"  -

And at times it was unclear what he meant…

The poor boy had a speech impediment.

He loved the girl; he called her "Fi", why not?

But when he spoke he got his tongue in knot.

- "Oh Fi, fhy oh fhy do you friggle your fips?

I fould like to know." - She pouted her lips.

- "Oh would you really? And what would you give

To hear my answer, to know my motive?" -

She asked and started to drop down her skirt…

Well, our fair Fiona was quite a flirt,

So her blouse and bra also hit the grass…

And although she sure was not made of glass,

This act made her move rather transparent…

The boy was coy n' a bit ambivalent,

He dropped his pants, thinking he was in luck:

"Oh Fi, fhat is it you fant? A nice duck?"

© P. J. Oszmann (2004)

© Illustration created in Photoshop (2004)

As this is my first posting in the New Year of 2007, I decided to start the year with something irreverently frivolous… and meaningless…

So, take it or leave it…

Happy New Year anyway!