A small room, in the still of the night;
Through the window, the moon’s spill of light
Falls upon her white breasts.
To his fevered requests,
She still won’t say she will, but she might!
World's largest collection of original limericks
A small room, in the still of the night;
Through the window, the moon’s spill of light
Falls upon her white breasts.
To his fevered requests,
She still won’t say she will, but she might!