Under the Swarshum

Where the collymoffle dinges,
and the mawking cranes dare;
where the licking lash swinges,
and the moths refuse to care --

there along the poddleway
I caught the scent of your unendum,
they lifted up the throttle, way
past the third addendum.

Tickle me under the swarshum;
kiss me around the block;
toast me black as a marshum-
hello, and make me talk.