Professor Chip & His Robot (A Birthday Love Poem, For Holly)    

There was once a lonely professor called Professor Builderbot,
who was so very lonesome he had to snivel up the snot
clotting in his philtrum, not about  his pouty bot-
tom lip, as he cried himself to zees like a told off tot.

So what could the Prof do to improve his lonely lot?
'Well, I am a professor,' mused Professor Buiderbot, 
'In the mad scientist mould, so  I'll have to use the skills I've got.
I'm not so nifty on  my size nine Nikes down the nightspots!'

Some designs did the Prof - first name Chip - get out his nib and jot,
 which he refined and tweaked into a  blueprint for a robot, 
not an android to do algorithms whilst digging Chip's allot-
ment, nope, a romantic robot - Cupes was patently in a tight spot!

To his lab with toolbox and circuitboards did Prof  Builderbot
remove himself and bang about, experiment and exclaim 'Great Scott!'
like Doc Emmett Brown, until all his hard sciencey graft begot
a bionic girlf, a beeping beauty. Woman, thy improvement be  Robot!

O her contours were  as slinky as an aluminium ocelot!
Her silver cyber smile shimmered like fruities spewing jackpots!
Gyroscopes gave grace so  her caterpillar  tracks could foxtrot!
This Aphrodite took batteries, no coinslot cooled her kilowatts!

Ah, it was love at first byte for Professor C. Builderbot.
'Ker-ker-call me Chip!' stumbletongued the smitten crackpot,
blonde Leonard Hofstadter  with his squinters all bloodshot,
after workaholic wasp weeks wiring up wifely Robot.

'Beep beep!'  she  bleepblooped , then  whirred forwhirred full throt-
tle. ' Beep beep!'   he  word for word rec(h)iprocated, no polyglot,
but tonguetied by  the steampunk junk tooting in her bot-
tylicious trunk! Man-on-love-machine love he couldn't boycott.

For once the program  of true love ran as smoothly as an ot-
ter and a meermaid in a sleek purloined bat-yacht,
sailing off to bath bomb seas past Gotham jetsam and flot-
sam.  Chip the prof and his Passionotron would soon tie the  knot.
 
Hitched without a glitch, well-oiled but not as in blot-
to, down the aisle she didn't clunk or clang , no, Robot shot 
forwhirred so fast her cat-trax sparked , but her bridal train didn't             
                        garotte
Queenie and Rebel, page girls from next door, who wore pink and apricot. 

Mr and Mrs. Builderbot are a  Sci'n'Fi Mills'n' Boon plot,
for they hold each other dear like Gwenevere and Lancelot,
but  lady knight with shining armour for skin  is X-ray-eyed             
                    Robot,
who taught the Professor life didn't have to be lived at autopilot grot.

Now  sweet Robot and her Prof  snuggle like ted and tyke in a  cot.
Honeymoon suite where the magic happens - they're watching             
                Harry Pot-
ter!  I tease:  I'm sure nanotech nookie will soon build some babybots!
Chip's had his humanity reinvented by love of a good Robot.