by Shannon Laws
There was a man named Ned
who liked his ladies three
thrice was the number he bed
triple the pleasure to bounce on his knee
Only one at a time did he enjoy
the curves of each lovely lady
His best trickery he did employ
none suspected Ned as shady
One lady as thin as a finger
another voluptuous as melons
the third a passion fruit that lingers
He dined on each like a felon
One day all three arrived at the same spot!
Thrice were face slaps spent on Ned!
Triple was the number he was shot!
On the stone that lays at his head—
Here lies Ned lover of three
Brought down by a 22 caliber
While in midst of a loving spree
Forgot to update his calendar
Note from Shannon: I don’t often use a ABAB format, but this was a fun poem I wrote for a friend. I hope you also enjoy it. If so let me know. Thanks for visiting 🙂