Grandma, he would fail ’er to tail ovine sweetie—
Grandpa used to nail ’er; she showed reciprocity.
He said, “Honey, you’re my baby,” in triplets of iamb,
“You are my sheep-dip mate; no piglet, you're my lamb!”

This old man was grateful for his sweet’s swivin’ style;
He poked her with his pipe when the flock was off a mile.
But she wronged him, baaaaahhh sinister, and frolicked liberally:
Dogs she loved; for hogs she bent; his dong then got VD.*
Damn!

Guy’s got seeps dripped from his dipped wick;
He cursed; his face turned red.
He damned that lass and forth wind blew from his lungs, and he said:
“Lamb ’ho’!!

“If I get my hands on that trollop, well,
Gonna try and throttle. . .send her to hell,
’cause she put a rash on my lumber, I’ve
Got foreskin that looks like stung by hive.
If I get my hands on that one untrue:
Gun, backhoe, then bury ewe. . . !”

“Goodnight, lamb ’ho’!”


*veterinareal disease