ADDRESSED TO WORLD CUP PINUP

O Sophie, throw that ball to me;  
My parts, now cupped, you will thus see  
When I catch it with opened hand  
Before on my skin it doth land.  

Don't kick that ball, you understand,  
Lest it be of 'the other kind'.  
Cradle it in your lovinghands  
As if it were one of my glands.  
 
Just smile and watch your football king  
Run round and kick, in fullest swing.  
When he has scored, he'll turn around  
And smile to you from the green ground.
 
And should it be my team has won,
We'll rendezvous to have some fun.
Let your victor enjoy his spoils,
Smearing you with sensuous oils.