The foppish young man

with the green, velvet bow

walked out with

Jim Huntingdon-Smythe.

The pair of them

put on a wonderful show

for giggling voyeurs

so blythe.

In every position

that he could contrive,

the bow man made

Jim perform fine.

Remarkably bendy,

Jim Huntingdon-Smythe,

could curl and

contort and entwine.

With his mouth full and panting,

Jim dribbled and drooled.

His gaze, so adoring,

was fixed.

Whatever the angle

he couldn't be fooled,

as he ran,

and jumped for the sticks.

Here was a happy

and fit young man

and his dog,

Jim Huntingdon-Smythe.