Terry, sweet Terry,
you darling dancing flirt;
you glide up and down
in that slit black skirt!
Oh Terry, sweet Terry,
your eyes scintillate.
You smile; never frown as you
negotiate!
Terry, dear Terry, I know you
never shall seem worn ‘cause
no matter what the cost,
sweet self thy shall adorn! Yes,
swaying and waltzing, and
primping with such glee then
teaching to be 'lady-like", she gave
the skirt to me!
Oh Terry, dear Terry;
I wonder if you knew
your slit black skirt
is just a closet billet-doux.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem