The lady was, indeed, quite glamorous,
And, just now, was in a mood amorous.
But Thidwick said, “I’m not in the mood,”
“Oh! Thidwick, you are such a prude!”

Thidwick Thrum had met Lady De Graff,
At an exclusive nightclub, for a bit of a laugh.
Lady De Graff had a martini or three,
Which pepped up her usual staid personality.
The cause for her current amorous bent,
Which, for many men, would be fortune sent.

But not for Thidwick Thrum, our hero!
Whose sexual proclivities were close to zero!
“Oh! Thidwick, can’t you see I’m enamoured,”
Said Lady De Graff as she clamoured,
“I’m enamoured by your so good looks,”
“And I’m enamoured by that smell from those cooks.”
“Yes, that food smells mighty fine,”
“Especially if accompanied with wine.”

Thidwick Thrum didn’t flaunt his libido,
Fooling around wasn’t part of his credo.
But Lady De Graff had a one track mind,
And Thidwick realised he was in a bit of a bind!
“Come to me, lover boy!” she did declare,
As Thidwick pushed back, and gasped for air,
“If it is nuptials you do require,”
“To allow me to feed my desire,”
“Then I do say, let us be wed,”
“Just say, yes, my feet aren’t made of lead!”

Thidwick realised his time was up!
He eschewed this proferred loving cup.
“I’ m off!” He stammered, running hard.
And kept up his pace, after crossing the yard!