dripping drops of gripping glops
I plant my tongue on candied clops
with swashy swizzles and plentiful nizzles
I pray for her kizzles
I walk a dance with slants and rants
those blastfemious gants tripped up on my pants
and so I blush
but she gestures, hush
I do and I coo
my blood boils for you
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I agree with Reuillard... It definetly was a fun read because of the rhymes. I liked how it started to sound like a kids poem. 10 Claude Davis III