GLORY OF THE DAWN
Oh to awake at dawn
Awaking with the horn
To sport a morning glory
Was highly satisfactory
A magnificent early riser
With which to surprise her
But alas that was in my youth
And to tell the honest truth
Now my poor dormant muscle
Can barely raise a chuckle
THE CALL OF THE WILD
Not pampered or preened
Nor sculptured or shaped
Not tidied or groomed
Nor shaven or scraped
For neat and manicured
Well, nothing could be fouler
For we like it as nature intended
An untamed hairy growler
No French landing strips
Or Brazilian styled
Just wild and untamed bush
Because we like our beaver wild
DEFLATED
I used to rise at dawn
And marvel at my erection
Such a thing of beauty
So wonderful in its perfection
But those days are behind me
Its flaccid now upon inspection
And to raise it from its flaccidity
I must consume some blue confection
And thus perform a miracle rising
Akin to the resurrection
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