Party Dance
Flowers dance in party dresses,
Insects nuzzle their perfume,
They do this in gardens so that,
We don’t have to leave the room.
It isn’t birds and bees, you know,
We need to learn about.
These sexy petaled trollops,
Gayly flaunt their wares about.
So shamelessly these hussies,
With color and aroma,
Set out to prove that to succeed,
They’ll need no school diploma.
My wife used the weedwhacker,
On bluebells one fine day.
She crashed their jolly party.
I took her tool away.
I forgive their merriment,
Their careless happy airs,
Because at night they bow their heads,
And say their silent prayers.
NicknamedBob . . . . . . April 2, 2004