The fear of impregnation,
That anticipation of hue and cry.
For the feeblness of her existence,
Had no precedence of that accord.
The slowly rising infatuation,
The unpreparedness of her demeanure,
And lack of hope to live it through.
Left me so wanting to seed her with ecstasy,
But I dare not use the ploy,
It is unnecessary to reiterate it,
As she is pregnant,
Pregnant with joy.