I find that as a teacher, there's one metaphor most apt
To best evoke the imagery which has me now so rapt
The girl is only thirteen, whom I'm just about to taste:
Undies dangling from one foot, skirt pushed up about her waist
Assigning her detention gives me half an hour at least
No fear of interruption to disturb my pending feast
She's always had a crush on me, shyly batting lashes,
But lately so much bolder with her front-row panty flashes
I'd been teaching similes to my seventh-period class
After which she'd sashayed out, swinging seventh-grader ass
I'd called her back and told her she'd be staying after school
Now in a moment mouth and twat will be exchanging drool
If I sought a simile for the flesh before my nose
Her aromatic organ presents "like a petalled rose."
I'll call its rounded puffiness "a lightly-fuzzed split peach."