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11/27/2009 4:44:48 PM
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I met a young slug, who gave me a shrug, And said that his life, was so full of strife, He'd wandered around, no 'she' slug had he found, He so wanted to find, someone who was kind. Setting off in haste, he had no time to waste, And slithered into, a flowerbed venue. He saw her right there, Oh my, did he care, Such charm on display, his love he'd convey. Into petals she crawled, and he was enthralled, He followed in a dream, mesmerized it would seem, As coy as could be, she asked him to tea, And enjoyed toast and jam, and also some spam. He then met her Dad, who liked her new lad, And gave his consent, so they were content, To wait for the day, when their vows they would say. He was certainly not subfusc, but an excited mollusc. The wedding was grand, just as they had planned, His blushing new bride, smiled, all starry-eyed, They would honeymoon too, at a posh rendezvous, For he'd won him a wife, and escaped from his strife. © Ernestine Northover Ernestine Northover
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