Death came to me in a mini skirt
As skittish as a kitten,
And said,"I am come - for your final flirt,"
But added, "You don't seem smitten."
Says I, "Well - not in my wildest whim
Did I picture you looking like this,
I'd been told that you were a reaper grim
And behold - a saucy miss."
"Ah - many a one is like yourself
Surprised by my winning smile,
I have jokes and jests like a playful elf
And I know the way to beguile."
"But - please just pass me by with a nod
I've poems and plays unwritten,
There are footpaths I have never trod
As you say - I'm not much smitten."
Oh hush my darling - and don't repine,"
And she gave a gracious prance,
Then she twisted her fingers into mine
And whispered, "Shall we dance?"