Eve is madly in love with Hugh
And Hugh is keen on Jim.
Charles is in love with very few
And few are in love with him.
Myra sits typing notes of love
With romantic pianist's fingers,
Dick turns his eyes to the heavens above
Where Fran's divine perfume lingers.
Nicky is rolling eyes and tits
And flaunting her wiggly walk.
Everybody is thrilled to bits
by Clive's suggestive talk.
Sex suppressed will go berserk,
But it keeps us all alive.
It's a wonderful change from wives and work,
And it ends at half past five.
Unless the mood takes me, or I receive requests to the contrary, enough now of levity, back to the serious matter of poetry in September.