TREASURE CHEST
The bathing-suited are on the beach
and the bikini'd-girl looks a peach.
Sand 'tween my toes, gone unshoed,
by she and the sun I'm barbecued.
Treasure tumble into my arms,
lay your head on my chest 'neath the palms !
A BURLESQUE BEAUTY
The Beauty at the Burlesque
sure tickled with her fancy-feathers
many a bachelor's heart
and wedded-man's, under-the-weather;
for she was the kind of a bird
with whom to fly above the world.
No comments:
Post a Comment