Play sport

“Play sport,” she told him, as he lay there sleeping,
His belly like a jellyfish on heat.
“That blockage of the art’ry will come creeping
If now and then you don’t get on your feet.”

Inscrutable she was, like Mona Lisa,
So he heeded what his good wife has to say,
And now he’s very slim, but never sees ‘er,
The greatest round-world yachtsman of his day.