My love, she thinks her curvy form too slim.  
Though I protest that I do find her sweet  
From face and hair, yes from her very brim  
Through chest and waist and hips and legs and feet.

Dismissed, I watch her put on sweater large,  
A bra her teardrops barely splash the cup,  
And jeans with seat’s fabric there’s surcharge  
And calmly bades me, “Come and hold this up.”

I do obey and, smiling, she inhales.  
Thrusts out her chest and past a lungful takes  
Her bosom swells, the wind filling the sails,  
Her bottom, pressed to my groin, cushion makes

Her new clothes filled, she turns and hugs me tight  
And I am left agreeing she was right.