There is absolutely no excuse for it, so I shan't even bother to attempt one. In the spirit of
The Fair Maid and the Unicorn
There was a magic unicorn.
There was a merry maid.
They met up by a mountain-bourne.
"Good morrow, Sir!" she said.
"All Faerie things adore my ways
So cheerful, chaste, and pure!
Is that how I should spend my days?
I'm b*****ed if I'm sure!"
The Unicorn said, "Listen, Sis,
The road you walk is hard.
You'll end on biscuit tins, I wis,
Or on a birthday card,
Forever smiling, winsome, chaste,
And fresh as falling snow.
Is such a future to your taste?
I'm f***ed if I should know!"
The Virgin cried, "Well, starch my socks!
The end of maiden's game is
Forever on a chocolate box?
Nay, call me Semiramis!
Come, shepherds all – aye, sheep! – to bliss:
Lay on and never stint it -
Let's see the card they make of this!"
Aw, nuts! They didn't print it.