Poem by Ellen Keeland:
Pete and Mabel were dating, going steady,
Necking every chance they could get.
But when he held and pressed close to her,
She’d say, “Not yet, not yet.”
Then one night she gave in,
True love was also her quest.
Winging her way past sin,
She gave him all her best.
She was left high and dry,
He could only sigh
And admit,
He did not make the test.
How could he help her?
She was hot to trot.
She didn’t know,
And he knew not.
Just a couple of love birds,
Hoping next time would be better.
But it never was,
He just couldn’t get her.
Says he, “By golly, Mabel,
You’ve a hard nut to crack!”
She just murmured,
Too shy to talk back.
They married, none the less,
With devotion and work,
And though the sound of little feet,
Pattering on the floor,
Her innards told her not to do it anymore.
Frigid she was,
About to go insane,
He didn’t know what happened,
To his good name.
Oh! How they wanted to know!
They searched high and low-
How to cure her hung-up situation,
When reading through and old home medical book,
An answer she took,
For her love-making privation.
Now their love is worthwhile,
Both Pete and Mabel have a big smile,
Says she, “Look Ma, no hands,
I’m a woman after all,
Make way, men, I’m walking ten feet tall!”
Poor ‘Ol Pete had to slow down, stop,
Even repeat from the beginning,
But a few cold wash cloths, deep breaths,
Were a small price to pay for them
Both to be winning.