Upon a Bed of Biting that a Flea was occupying,
a Woman and a tasty-looking Poet were a-lying.
The Poet never heard the Flea arriving with a leap,
as he chattered at the Woman, as she tried to get some sleep,
and the Fearless Flea was sated when he'd fed upon the two
(and their juices mixed inside him, which is more than she would do).

The Fearless Flea has fallen! for the Woman struck him dead,
and felt that in the future she should sleep alone instead.
She made a Memorandum that you're surely ill-at-ease
if you share a bed with Poets or you share a bed with Fleas,
for the Poet kept on rhyming till the rising of the Sun,
(as she privately decided that she never should have Donne.)