Tables Turned…

On your back, that’s right throw them legs up high,

Want your belly scratched, my nails worn down, don’t sigh,

Hold on for all your worth, don’t worry about that fly,

Don’t be sniffing at my crotch, nothing in there but a little guy…

Here I am to please you, tickle you, scratch you and make you smile,

No sorry I don’t do the biting thing, unless you shave all that hair,

Who wants a hairy partner, legs not shaved, mustache like whiskers,

Your tummy hair in such disrepair, never have I seen such an affair…

No Rufuz I don’t want to get bitten, I will scratch you, don’t think though I am smitten…

                                © ed ~ 8/29/04