Monday, August 6, 2007

Monica’s Legs

I know I’m not bright, but I can’t understand
Those shapely white legs that can never get tanned.
From the first rays of dawn, till the moon rears it’s head,
They never turn brown and they never turn red.

Lying out on the sunbed in forty degrees,
Her face and her body turn bright red with ease.
But all of the flesh from her swimming shorts down
Will never turn red and will never turn brown.

The poor dermatologist cannot begin
To fathom the strange DNA of her skin,
He says there are many things in nature’s reign
That science just cannot begin to explain.

Pilgrims come flocking to gaze on the sight
Of deeply tanned body and legs deathly white.
They’ve even been known to intone a few hymns
In praise of those wondrous, spectacular limbs.

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