Fred faces facts 

If Blanc de Blancs and Blanc de Noirs
(Fred muses, rather pissed)
Are possible, as most things are,
Can Noir de Blancs exist?

His reason tells him in a tick
This is the merest dream.
But is his intellect so quick
When women are the theme?

Not without effort. For he'll let
His fantasy grow fond
Of, let us say, a blonde brunette
(A sort of Brune de Blondes),

With eyes of blackly hazel-blue
And skin all ivory-tanned;
Tall, tiny; slim and buxom too;
Huge breasts that fit the hand.

—Such dreams he can return to store
(Albeit with regret),
But others come which lure chaps more
Insidiously yet:

A temperamental and serene
Bohemian home-girl type;
A poule de luxe of modest mien,
Mature and not yet ripe;

Demure, farouche; unspoilt and chic...
Of course the lesson is
He shouldn't actually seek
For contradictories.

So when he toasts a girl in Brut
From Ay or Avise slopes
Fred takes the realistic view
—Or so he says he hopes.

Footnote
Girls aren't exempt. Their dreams evoke
(Fred hears it every day)
The strong and independent bloke
Who'll do just what they say.

Not Fred's style

If you are wanting to annoy
(As Fred hopes that you're not)
Nowadays there's many a ploy
To make girls' cheeks go hot.

One method Fred has sometimes struck:
With eyes half-shut and grin
Of patronising homage, chuck
A girl beneath the chin. 

"Well, well, my little one" will serve
To aggravate your crime;
But even if you have the nerve
Fred doubts you'll have the time.

Because, meanwhile, the chance is high
That, when the penny drops
You'll rapidly be silenced by
A smack across the chops.

Meekness, in fact, has had its day
(If it was ever found)
But still nostalgia for it may
Give chaps the runaround.

If so, to realists like Fred
Their compensation seems
Only attainable in bed
—That is, of course, in dreams.