Once we wore white petticoats
pretty broidered frills
red ones were for cancan girls
and all such naughty thrills
advancing adolescence saw us
slink into silk slips
hands that lingered longingly
over breast and hips
surfing all the curved preserves
of honeymoon hors d’oeuvres
A 44 word ditty that borders on the burlesque with Linda's quadrille prompt: Slip
PoetryPix 