For Roger De Over-Cum-Navel In Cheshire Poem by Keith Shorrocks Johnson

[Don't Bad Mouth Cheshire - We Started It All! ]

Do what you list, I will your thrall be seen
To lust the eye at which the sun goes blind
Though magistrates proscribe and then condemn
In name with which 'look evil' may be rhymed.

Fair Milking Maid of cheesy mould
Fresh from the vats and parlour
Fat with the curds of kindness round
Your belly button spurs my ardour.

For as the rennet clogs the cheese
The fluff and lint will stuff and bind
So setting then my bliss and ease
In rolls as cloths unloose and then unwind.

And like a bird's nest be your button
That it wobbles when I see you dance
Yet that woe my dart may ere confound
So such pretty dimple does me dalliance

Therewith you be so merry and so jocund,
That at a revel when that I see it wink,
I am an ointment unto thy wound,
Whate’er the priests and clerks may think

For though I weep of tears a bucket
When flab and folds in love abound
I treasure so your knotted pocket
And amorous become where fuzz is found

So I be-knavell'd Roger - thy true Cheshire swain -
Still press my suit with threaded remnants -
And oh that I attain that holy well again
With your sweet floss my grail and penance