Lurking in the dark near an Aussie Ale mark
The stout called the dame to talk to her stark
Lurking in the dark where the mongrels bark
The stout had a word be shared to a languid heart
This wasn’t a game and there wasn’t a feel of swart
But all that they had been through it was for her to hark
Lurking in the dark near a dilapidated park
The stout called the dame to talk to her stark.
Albeit the end was near to the worst of dame’s fear
The ephemeral hunch was only too hard to bear,
And as she walked down in a shimmering white gown
All that was asked for, the reason she were here!
Though the rife man had always a garrulous stance
His bosom began to trip with her every advance
One look in the orb that parched his throat
He exuded in snow, sans a mink coat!
Lurking in the dark by a cul-de-sac arc
The stout called the dame to talk to her stark.
The hombre had no words and new not where to start
and took her a push, to slit open his heart,
The stiff stood stunned with a silent chelate
But all that it got was ... still a clean slate!
The cadaver was numb for all that had come
but to the frigid visage, it did not succumb!
The spirit turned around and lifted from the ground
and waited on the dame to scribe the slate!
Lurking in the dark his feeling he debark
The stout called the dame to talk to her stark.