The traffic lights are turning amber
His heart swells, he cries ¡Ay, caramba!
When he spots a scarlet starlet,
Every varlet sees a harlot.
If an Eve is cloaked in madder
Sons of Adam scent an adder.
Heat: that’s what your sunny Jim’s on
When he looks at women, crimson.
See the craze that fills his cranium
When she dresses in geranium.
It’s the stick and he’s the carrot
If she clothes herself in claret.
Man turns into something horrid
If, like cheeks, she’s looking florid.
All his parts are incandescent
If her outfit is rufescent.
A Tory strips and heads for bed
When Liberal Democrats seem red.
Click here for a Telegraph story
Click here to buy Bill’s new poetry collection, Ringers