Click in the field, then press CTRL+C to copy the HTML code
Apple Pie mmmmm My Eye
Boy, this bed rattles bangs and squeaks
Your mother said was louder than the works hooter
I told your mom it was the computer geeks
They were fixing your computer
She asked who has left the empty condom packets
I told her, I used them as handle covers for my tennis racquets
By what I said, to her she was quite taken aback,
She thought my mind wandered on another track
What is the point of that she asked In Turn?
Her eyes glaring hard at me looking so stern
I once dropped them, in mom’s apple pie
As she looked knowingly, in my eye
All the banging kept us awake
I told her you were chasing a little snake
Her eyes burned right through my head
Snakes she said a snake wandering in the bed?
Somehow, she thought I was telling a tale
As she looked at me, my face went pale
You had better see the local vicar
Do you think I was drinking liquor?
Sadly my roving days are done
My girlfriend’s oven has a bun
The wedding day came and went
Now my racquet handle, is slightly bent
poem
by
Gordon D Wilkinson
solid border
dashed border
dotted border
double border
groove border
ridge border
inset border
outset border
no border
blue
green
red
purple
cyan
gold
silver
black