The Perils of Corduroy

I am bizarrely dressed in corduroy
In front of the mirror I scrunch my eyes
and she must make do with this clumsy boy
To change again? Alas, there is no time
Playfully her hands cover up my gaze
"What colour are my eyes, my erstwhile friend?"
and in my ear she's passionately says
"You said that they were pools. Did you pretend?"
"They are the deepest shade of blue." I press
Half reassured and vaguely comforted
Avoiding prolonged stares into her chest
How can I entice this angel to bed?

She is more perfect than I could have wished
Then she laughs at my pants and I am ditched


Authors note; I just had to include this review because it tickled my funny bones so much. I have thanked them because I know where they are coming from and that they meant what they wrote in the spirit of helpful commentary - it's just still funny!

After reading the sonnet, I was left with a feeling that the subject matter did not go along with the seriousness, gravity or sanctity or deepness of thought with which this type of poetry, certainly not easy to write, is associated, albeit subconsciously.