Her Thighs

This is a poem, in praise of her thighs
They guard the gates of a woman's surprise

They're soft and smooth as a babies behind
Oh what a wonderful, happy design!

And joined at the top to a tight shapely ass
Both women and men will watch as they pass

Yes, thighs are the road to my favorite desert
When nicely framed by a tight little skirt

But the skirt is a wrapping she smiles and removes
It's one of the things that a lack of improves

The thighs are a road-sign that point out the spot
Where a kiss and a touch make her wiggle a lot

When parted with care to expose her flower
They're pleasant to see with their beauty and power

Then when they wrap, and lock 'round my back
They keep me from slipping at all out her crack

Now we are done, and the last thing I say
"Praise be to thighs: they just made my day!"