This poem is a completely accurate and rigorously researched, historical accounting of one of life's greatest pleasures...so wet your lips and read on...

The Goddess of Love, and the King of the Earth,
made sweet love, in no time gave birth
to a Maiden of Splendour, with a beauty so fair,
no mere Mortal was she, as she danced on the air.

As pure as snow, she could melt your heart,
until she was kissed under the Mistletoe,
by a Frenchman from Nice, who could kiss
with such passion,
that his kiss became famous, after a fashion.

Armed with the knowledge of her newfound pucker,
this Maiden of Heaven began to sucker
in handsome young men, almost of age, and
kissed with such passion, using her tongue as bait.

Showering adolescents with the secrets of her Kiss,
the young men evangelized and spread the myth
to any girl who was daring and curious,
dispelling rumours, making foreplay glorious.

But was it really their fault
they engaged in oral pleasures;
after being kissed by a Maiden
it was time for new measures.

This is one of many versions
of the Kiss called French,
an exercise in lust,
started by a Maiden,
and a gigolo from Nice,
who in the interest of peace,

Swept a Lady off her feet --
granting the lads a present,
with which they are never hesitant.