For so many men at women’s despair,
Find chests and breasts beyond compare;
But I say to them, “au contraire, mon frere!”
For I prefer the part that’s nearest the chair.
To my wife’s chagrin, for she’s well endowed,
She’s picked a man from a wide, worthy crowd
Who’s more than often stated aloud,
“Legs and booty for me my male thinking cloud!”
For that is what brings this male to distraction
And puts me in the lesser male faction.
My Jolly Roger I’ll always hoist in reaction
To that gluteal magnet of sublime attraction.
But to be fair, I must honestly confess,
that brains are what I prefer the best;
but physically I’ll pass up the more popular chest
For the other end (as you might’ve guessed).
Is there a better place to rest one’s head,
or spoon against on a cold night in bed?
That wiggles and wriggles as my lovely might tread?
It’s the lovely buttocks, just like I said!
Pertly does the feminine behind grace,
the polar opposite of the lovely face.
I fitting home for a bit of white lace,
Where I rest my hands when I choose to embrace.
When speaking to women, men’s eyes are oft plastered
Upon female bosoms, their desire un-mastered
And caught by the lady, she’ll say to the dastard,
“My eyes are up here, you misogynist bastard!”
I am for the large part, however, spared
from being caught in the act of the fool who has stared.
For no eyes reside on the side of of the paired
lovely orbs of my longing, my gaze oft ensnared.
Whether round or flat or large as a house
Sticking out like a shelf or as small as a mouse…
Please, my friend, do not think me a louse!
My life-long preference I surely can’t dowse.
Oh, derriere! Feminine part most fair!
Cleft but unbroken, right and left cheeky pair,
forbidden soft fruit of my longing despair.
Oh, reminiscence in shape of the ever sweet pear!
But please don’t forget those marvelous gams!
Lovely support for the well-rounded twin hams
(more desirous than men’s preferable yams
and target of most male’s seductive scams).
Yes, it’s the legs willowy, winsome support
And their lovely shape that I oft choose to court
And just now I think of no livelier sport
Than pursuing those limbs, whether long or short.
Apologies to my wife and all other people of taste. I can’t help it, I had to write this– it’s been bugging for days.