Wordplay

Come here pretty plaything;
I want to word your word.
I’ll diminish you to
The n-th root of a surd

But first a gentle kiss
And a bite on both words.
I’ll word your sisters too;
Cows always come in herds.

I know you want wording;
You’re a wordloving bird.
Here, lay down on your back;
Let me taste your sweet word.

I’m wording you hard now;
Your wetness is absurd.
Your screams make me wordy:
At each thrust you shout ‘Word!’

Pull your word lips apart
And take all of my word.
Submit to my word now;
It’s as thick as a turd.

Now your word’s prop’ly dealt
With, it now has occurred
To me: you’ll suck on this
And then swallow my curd.

Ah, you did that so well,
You wordsucking wordword,
I would word you again,
But we were overheard.

My neighbour now words you,
While I watch and get word.
His word is much bigger.
You scream: ‘WORD! WORD! WORD! WORD!’

This pome’s wording stupid;
All vain writers are words,
But ne’er accuse this one
Of being lost for ... rhymes.