She dressed to nines, and, quite genteel,
Our lady was no clown.
In satin gown,
She strolled the town,
A woman of renown.
In grandest style,
She’d wink and smile;
You’d never see her frown.
She loved the men
And had a yen
To charm them upside down.
She slipped and fell upon a peel;
Her legs flew in the air.
Upon a dare,
A few did stare
At views beyond compare.
Banana goop,
A howl and whoop,
A lady in despair…
But oversight
Was her sad plight;
Her bottom was quite bare.
The last I’d heard, she’d lost her zeal
For dressing to the nines.
The latest signs
In her designs
Seem set on trouser lines,
But I’m amazed
She wasn’t fazed
How underwear combines
To cover that
Of which men chat
and sunlight never shines.
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Submission Name: No Panty Lines
.... ooo my... this was deffinately a funny and well written 