From London a gent of consummate manners,

From Paris a man with great charm,

From Berlin a chap so determined,

And a New Yorker set out to disarm.


It was from this fashion house of lovers,

Svetlana felt she needed to choose,

Just the one who she saw as her soul mate,

Be the one she did not want to lose.


Yet herein lay her dilemma,

For all had both good points and bad,

After pondering, soul searching and brooding,

The whole episode was driving her mad.


For the Englishman could be quite boring,

The Frenchman she felt he might stray,

The German had no sense of humour,

And the Yank wanted sex night and day.


The day came rather sooner than later,

When Svetlana faced up to her dread,

Instead of selecting just one of her beau’s,

She would let them all share her bed.


Obviously not at the same time,

For she did have scruples you see,

Yet on balance and after a great deal of thought,

She decided she’d stay wild and free.


OK her plan was not perfect,

Indeed her game of love needed rules,

Yet in London, Paris, Berlin and New York,

She had her ‘perfumery of fools.’




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