PG 21. This is the product of an interactive facebook status invitation, a loooooong Wednesday at the office and the daring contributions of a bunch of frisky friends. Enjoy!
These are all things
that make me feel good:
Nutella, Flamenco,
and having nice boobs.
Beauty, flowers, love, dancing,...touch
All riches in Earth would not please me as much!
Mud fighting...naked,
apple pie...baked,
all hugs and kisses that would take to make it.
A Sp-Anish-fly maketh...
a Lucie to be touched!
I hope you wont fake(th),
For we all love you much
...and improv love making all over the couch.
Wathcing sunsets! The beautiful painted sky!
The watercolors of heavens! The artwork of the Most High!
Aziza says “sorry...can I make the pie?”
Friends, you are all poets! By trade or by heart!
Now Anish is sick,
yet he's still rhyming back
“Stop it, this ain't art!,
It makes me want to fart!”
Jo yells “Lucia, please give us a start!”
“Anish” goes Lucia “why, oh why all the fuzz?
I'd never have deemed you such a sour puss!
If farting, oh, sire, your art choice may be
then do it with rhythm, great gusto and glee!”
“Tempt me no further with your Seuss lust”
Anish replies in gassy brain trance
“Can't think straight...must rhyme!
Can't talk right...must mime!
Can't eat light...must dine!
Look what you did, I'm a nervous wreck,
a half green oger, a rhyming Shrek!”
Mike thinks “Oh, dear!I pray the end is near,
for Anish is rhyming about sounds from his rear!”
And granting the wishes of Mike, known as Cress
here finsih the story,
my friends y'all have earned
the laurels of glory
lets all put our rears and our brains to rest.
These are all things
that make me feel good:
Nutella, Flamenco,
and having nice boobs.
Beauty, flowers, love, dancing,...touch
All riches in Earth would not please me as much!
Mud fighting...naked,
apple pie...baked,
all hugs and kisses that would take to make it.
A Sp-Anish-fly maketh...
a Lucie to be touched!
I hope you wont fake(th),
For we all love you much
...and improv love making all over the couch.
Wathcing sunsets! The beautiful painted sky!
The watercolors of heavens! The artwork of the Most High!
Aziza says “sorry...can I make the pie?”
Friends, you are all poets! By trade or by heart!
Now Anish is sick,
yet he's still rhyming back
“Stop it, this ain't art!,
It makes me want to fart!”
Jo yells “Lucia, please give us a start!”
“Anish” goes Lucia “why, oh why all the fuzz?
I'd never have deemed you such a sour puss!
If farting, oh, sire, your art choice may be
then do it with rhythm, great gusto and glee!”
“Tempt me no further with your Seuss lust”
Anish replies in gassy brain trance
“Can't think straight...must rhyme!
Can't talk right...must mime!
Can't eat light...must dine!
Look what you did, I'm a nervous wreck,
a half green oger, a rhyming Shrek!”
Mike thinks “Oh, dear!I pray the end is near,
for Anish is rhyming about sounds from his rear!”
And granting the wishes of Mike, known as Cress
here finsih the story,
my friends y'all have earned
the laurels of glory
lets all put our rears and our brains to rest.
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