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DAISY
For no fantastic physique do I wait.
Such maiden pray'rs did I long ago quash.
I seek no more than a minimum mate
Who sets me feeling all tosy and cosh.
Which merely means to be cozy and warm
And not some feminine twaddle and tosh.
No other miracle must he perform
Than keeping all of me tosy and cosh.
His eyes may cross and collide -
My sole concern is the furnace inside.
A stalwart, sinuous swashbuckler he,
Or one more likely to buckle than swash;
His bed more idle than bridal will be
If there's no climate that's tosy and cosh.
'Tis sad but true
That if only you slosh
Through fields of rubbish, you only find trash.
What chance had I to be cozy and warm
With guys who only play tosy for cash.
Oh, I'm so tired...
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