A blatant rip-off

And now for a blatant rip-off of the best poem ever written:

My Supergirl’s a wondrous lass, she’s called the Girl of Steel –
For she’s the bright-hued heroine whose wrath the wicked feel.
She’s the bafflement of human cops, the CSI’s despair:
For when they reach the scene of crime – my Supergirl’s not there!

O Supergirl my Supergirl, there’s no one like my Supergirl,
She’s broken all of Nature’s laws, and done so with a teasing twirl.
Her powers of levitation would make a fakir stare,
And when you reach the scene of crime – Supergirl’s not there!
You may seek her in the cornfields, you may look up in the air –
But I tell you once and once again, my Supergirl’s not there!

My Supergirl’s a blonde-haired lass, she’s elegant and thin;
You would know her if you saw her, for she has a cheeky grin.
Her eyes are lined with laughter too, her hair is slightly curled;
Her suit is silky sapphire blue, her scarlet cape unfurled.
She sways her head from side to side, with movement like a cat;
And when you think she’s half asleep, she knows just where you’re at.

O Supergirl my Supergirl, there’s no one like my Supergirl,
An alien in human shape, her beauty makes my thoughts a-whirl.
You may meet her in an alley, you may see her at a fair –
But when a crime’s discovered, then my Supergirl’s not there!

& so on…

About Frank

A Sci-Fi & Fantasy author and lyrical poet with a mild obsession for vampires, succubi, goddesses and Supergirl.
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