Love Poem: Unripe Ripe Men

Unripe Ripe Men

A dog that is feeding on milk
Won't go all days been fed by an ilk
When situation makes him bilk
Then the dog won't be as fine as a silk

A ball at the back of the net is a goal
Two balling on bed must have become a soul
With the one that is in control
Pleasurably drilling the hole

Two goals are called a brace
Jubilation is always of deep embrace 
How hard opponents feel so disgrace 
Trying to come back in form through grace

Three goals are called an hatrick 
After two is no longer a baby mama by trick 
Enjoying the memorable awesome kick
Which never get you sick 

Unexpectedly in love; 
Hugs plant Olive.  
Unexpectedly with peers; 
Olive's shade gears cheers.
Unexpectedly in joy;
I, a playboy.
Unexpectedly with ladies; 
Scope drives Mercedes. 

But men are running late for altar's oath
Wandering soul mate can't afford a troubling  both 
But has forgotten the lurking loath
Running behind them, are many a troth