[Lance Levens]

Thanks Brian. I was too swept up Wulf-i-tude. Change made.

[Douglas G. Brown]

As daylight is fading away into dark,
You see a guy kissing his girl in the park.
Are they true lovers, or is it mere lust?
How can you tell which emotion to trust?

If the fellow is gazing deep into her eyes
At the same time he’s groping her butt and her thighs
(and furtively peeking a lot at her bust),
The chances are likely you’re looking at lust.

If she’s telling the guy that her period’s over
And now is prepared for a roll in the clover,
And says she admires his bold pelvic thrust;
It’s a strong indication she’s driven by lust.

If she nibbles his ear with a cool reassurance
And whispers sweet nothings about health insurance;
And the guy doesn’t slap her, or give her a shove,
You can be pretty certain they’ve fallen in love.

[Susan McLean]

Rules for Love

Don’t wear make-up, ever. Don’t act girly.
Don’t collect shoes or shop until you drop.
If your hair is straight, don’t make it curly.
Don’t play dumb or play his games. Don’t stop
reading or saying what you think. Don’t flatter.
Don’t claim that you love football if you don’t.
Don’t sidestep. Don’t pretend it doesn’t matter
if he puts down your friends or if he won’t
do his fair share of housework. Do your best
to give your talents scope and free his own.
Grill steaks; eat chocolate. This is not a test.
If he won’t love you, you’ll do fine alone.
Sex is a bonus. Give as good as you get,
but make it clear you don’t intend to marry.
Love what you have, and what you don’t, forget.

These worked for me. (Your results may vary.)

[Douglas G. Brown]

If you have clothed a wife in lavish raiment
And never griped a bit at the expense;
If you have made a monthly mortgage payment
On a cottage with a whitewashed picket fence;

If you have left your buddies playing poker,
To drive her to some women’s racquet club;
And on the way, you had to gently stroke her
Fragile ego (for at tennis she’s a dub);

If you have been around her youngest sister
(Who rivals the most stunning movie star),
And never fantasized that you had kissed her
Or groped her in the back seat of a car;

If you have held your tongue while her dear mother
Harangues you on the stupid things you do -
Then you’re a better Man than me - and Brother,
Thank Heaven, I have fobbed her off on you.

[Ann Drysdale]

Oooh - nice one, Douglas!

[Douglas G. Brown]

Thanks, Ann. I hope that Mr. Kipling is not rolling over in his grave.

[Ann Drysdale]

Mister Kipling does an exceedingly good turnover. (British baked-goods joke.)

[Brian Allgar]

An excellent piece, Douglas.

May I sugest that the metre in the last two lines is a litte shaky? Perhaps it could be straightened out as something like:

Then you’re a better Man than me - and, Brother,
Thank God that I have fobbed her off on you.
xxxor
I thank God that I've fobbed her off on you.

(... or not)

[Douglas G. Brown]

Originally Posted by Brian Allgar

An excellent piece, Douglas.

May I sugest that the metre in the last two lines is a litte shaky? Perhaps it could be straightened out as something like:

Then you’re a better Man than me - and, Brother,
Thank God that I have fobbed her off on you.
xxxor
I thank God that I've fobbed her off on you.

(... or not)

Brian,
Thanks for your tip. It smooths the ending out a great deal. Plus, I switched the 2 middle verses, to get a better "build".
There is a fairly obscure American country song that begins "Put another log upon the fire" , which I recalled when I was writing this.

[John Whitworth]

Love Rules

My Son, in all the tracts of life
So varied and circuitous,
Acquaintance with the facts of life
Will not be found gratuitous.

Debauch in railway carriages
Can never be commended,
For thus too many marriages
Are prematurely ended.

Likewise, in taxis, air balloons
And low, notorious houses,
Keep it inside your pantaloons
And button up your trousers!

True love and domesticity
Are infinitely better,
Affording true felicity.
Incinerate this letter.