There hasn't been enough Oye Terence love recently...wot is wrong with you people!
Oh dear. You're right. Hang on - I'll dig out that sonnet you were too shy to send him....
With hearts a-rush, come cluster to the view!
No fairer form 'ere walked on mortal feet.
Young maidens blush (and certain fellows, too)
At sighting noble Terence in the street.
Behold his quiff! Replendent! Lush! Restored!
In carriage proud, 'tis Gravity dismissed.
We, in his wake can only linger, awed
As Terence takes the stage, in floodlight kissed.
Precarious, his jeans caress his hip.
His Moz impersonations soar, foment
Our loins to joy, until a virile whip
Of mic lead gives us all a 'personal moment'.
(I think we have a surfeit of hyperbole
Be glad I've not uploaded this, done verbally.)