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[Not strictly limericks as syllable count is out, 
But hey… be a rebel… ignore the rules!]
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I met the young lady from flat forty-five
I told her, “Your beauty makes me feel alive.”
She said, “My name’s Lexi.”
Her voice was SO sexy
My heart beat as though it was in overdrive

She took no persuading to give me a kiss
And then she said, “I bet you want more than this.”
My ardour was stirred
A lot more occurred
And my whole life became an ocean of bliss

The feelings we nurtured in flat forty-five
Instilled in me romance that surely would thrive
She patted my sleeve
And said, “You should leave,
My next client is about due to arrive.”

Downhearted, I made my way down to the street
I felt worse than Bonaparte when he was beat
Until she called down,
“Don’t go off with a frown,
Podiatrists, like me, just do people’s feet”

Well that tipped the scales and put wind in my sails
I rushed up those stairs like a steam train on rails
And soon, side by side
I got me a bride
I also got soft feet with manicured nails

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