She had seen one of mine
thought it was like fine wine
but she missed and kissed only my neck.
Then she woke to discover those ones
just enough for duodenal runs.
And a mean spirit said
it was Herbert who had
placed the numbers, as one of the Huns.
Then the fairy came to her at night
with a silken chiffon, what a sight.
And she told her that he
would forever be free
like a free-flying spirited kite.
And a spirited kite would admire
CJ’s poems like cavemen the fire.
He would soon be in awe
by the writings he saw
let us hope she will never retire.