An Ode To My Testes

There is one left, there is one right,
They get massaged nearly every night.

Most often by me, sometimes by another,
But never my sister, brother or mother.

Unguents, creams, salves and lotions,
I've even treated them to a magic potion.

I'd happily put them on display,
But once they're out, out they stay.

I've named one Paul, the other Mary,
If I don't keep them shaved they get quite hairy.

I'm talking about my Testes, you see
We are best friends, my balls and me.


M. PotPie