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A cheeky sonnet

Oh bum thou often subject of fine art
Whose shining cheeks would gleam out of the stone
Your symmetry has captured many hearts
Whose charm lies surely not in form alone
A cushion fine for man to sit upon
Your graces hid beneath a garment’s shroud
Yet not a welcome sight out on the lawn
And not fit to be seen among the crowd
The seat of punishment for naughty child
A paddle makes the…



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