Stuck to my shoe
With nature’s strong glue.
An odd little pod
With your innate need
To spread your seed.
Yet I did deny
The seed’s eternal cry
And you entered in
To my bathroom bin.
Stuck to my shoe
With nature’s strong glue.
An odd little pod
With your innate need
To spread your seed.
Yet I did deny
The seed’s eternal cry
And you entered in
To my bathroom bin.
I know a young lady of pleasure
Who says her name it is Heather.
I was warned by mum
To avoid the hot sun,
But she didn’t say anything about Heather …!
I recall honeysuckle on a wall
And the scent of Grandfather’s roses.
The poet composes
A rhyme
To Time
Who ends all.
I once had a lover named Glover
Who said she would have no other.
But I caught her with Moriah
And the entire male voice choir,
And a vicar who knows my mother!
There once was a girl named Lou
Who composed a poem about her shoe.
But as it didn’t quite fit
They said, “change it a bit”.
So Lou changed her poem and shoe!
Girls splash cheap perfume
In a strange bathroom.
Their conversation so low
That he doesn’t know.
What they say.
And soon
Cheap perfume
Scents lonely sheets
Where strangers meet.
I know a young lady named Lin
Who is gorgeous and full of sin.
I once met the old Devil,
Who is not on the level.
But he’s got more morals than Lin!
A young lady with whips and chains
Is well known for her superior brains.
We indulge in conversation
About this great nation,
As I admire that young lady’s brains …!
I confess
I undress
Women in my mind.
Some are true lovers
While others
I find
Are the temporary kind.
And my love and lust
Are dust.
Poets die
And leave behind
A part
Of their heart
And mind.
And readers discuss
The loves and lusts
We leave behind,
Be they real
Or the imagined kind.
When a careless young person named Mole
Slipped and fell into an open manhole,
A rat called Matt
Ate his new hat,
And the Devil he swallowed Mole’s soul!