Egg poem by NakedApe aged 27 3/4

Scrambled, fried, poached or boiled
Too eggs many and you find you've soiled,
Your best trousers or pretty skirt,
Ruining your chance to flirt with bert,

Have no fear, it's no bother,
He likes it backwards, the way of the others,
Cooking up eggs like Gordon or Delia,
Get down with Bert and his Corprophilia.
( Naked Ape call me Caitlyn, Thu 8 Oct 2009, 17:30, Reply)