You're white and shiny,
And in my mouth.
Now you're coming out,
And going south.

Into my glass,
There you'll get cleaned.
So till the 'morrow,
When we'll reconvene.

Well good morning, good morning,
My little friend.
Today you're not mine,
You're my wife's to lend.

Sorry about this,
It's sad but true.
But tomorrow you're mine,
Just know I love you.

Amy Stuart

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dentures/