We giggled in the courtyard,
Doing impressions of his coy advances.
The way he bites his lip,
His clumsiness as he dances.
His eyelids raised, revealing nerves.
He spluttered: “A beautiful undress”.
Perhaps that is what he really meant,
A Freudian slip, no less.
Image credit: Pixabay.com
In response to dVerse’s quadrille challenge #105 found here
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