For Martha

 

 

Shall I compare thee to a toilet roll?

When telling of your skin I’ve pondered oft

A simile to properly extol

How beautifully white it is, and soft;

Fresh-fallen snow? The plumage of a swan?

The last too oily far, the first too cold.  

I turn to that which buffs my situpon; 

Its likenesses to you are manifold,

For like a spool of bumwad you're about

The perfect width and goodly in your length;

As tender as I’ve said you are without, 

You have an inner core to give you strength;

I wrap you round me like the Andrex pup

And dearly hope I never use you up.

Shall I Compare Thee to a Toilet Roll?

© 2019 by Rob Stuart