In good old times there lived a Knight.
Sir Cecil was his name
Who dearly loved a goodly fight
And much indulged in same.

Though Cecil thus was dubbed “The Bold”
He held in quaking fear
A vamp who made his blood run cold
The Lady Gwenivere.

She vamped him from the battlements
When he went off to war
She even sent him scented notes
To vamp him from afar.

The Lady wildly craved his love
She always stuck around
Where ere our poor Sir Cecil went
She ran him to the ground.

No matter what Sir Cecil did
He wore his armour stout
And thus while Cecil went within
The Lady went without.

She got him in secluded nooks
And worked some clever points
She wept upon his armour plate
And rusted all his joints.

A can opener then did the trick
At last the knight was won -
And as she coyly chewed his ear
He sighed I am undone!

Here ye!

Beware of women’s fatal charms
In maidens never trust
Lest they might catch you unaware
And get beneath your crust!