She posed for ******* magazine
In nineteen Fifty Four.
Her green eyes met the cameras glare,
And she cared not who saw.
Her freckled skin was milky white,
her hair a burnished flame.
Her ******* were real and firm and high.
Dolores was her name.
She married shortly after that
And loved the child she bore.
She had both family and career
And she cared not who saw.
They called her a few weeks ago
To pose for them again
For once one is a playmate,
A playmate they remain.
Her skin is mottled, wrinkled now.
She sports a silver mane.
They used a gentle softer light
And a shawl embraced her frame.
She posed for ******* magazine
Like she had once before
Her green eyes met the cameras glare,
And she cared not who saw.