Unicornucopia

I had the horn one frisky day

And risked a kiss with my brisk love

And she freed passion-fashioned play

Of magma deep and stars above.

..

A Unicorn appeared before us

And, rearing up, said “Call me Spike.

Because of you, my ten-voice chorus

Hallelujahs. Lust–they like!”

..

I blushed, but what with melanin

My flushedness was undetected;

My lass said, “Spike, you’ll do my felon in;

His privacy must be respected.”

..

“Well,  heat my hooves and call me Skippy.

Where I come from, we celebrate

Our passion. Sorry! Must be trippy

Having Spike-dude crash your gate.”

..

He bowed and from his horn came gushing

Parting gifts by baker’s dozen,

Then, pioof, was gone, and I, still blushing,

Said, “Do you know him??” “Distant cousin.”