‘Top a lemon tree, twiddling the stem,
Of a ripening, juice-swollen gem,
Clementine decked her-
-Self in sticky nectar,
And christened it “Crème de la Clem”.
Hitherto had the hamlet suspected Clem
Of lewd conduct with citrus in Bethlehem,
But their slurs, she averted,
And tartly asserted,
“When life gives you lemons, have sex with them.”
2 thoughts on “Sourpuss”
getting a lot done sans phone. Makes me pucker!
“The poet is the one who is able to keep the fresh vision of the child alive.”