PRETTY GIRL ON A BICYCLE # 1

 

Pretty Girl on a bicycle

In a summer dress

Stood up on the pedals

To make better progress

And get her up the hill

Her dress billowed in the breeze

And to universal delight

Showed a view above the knees

BY THE DREAM LAKE

 

The dark lake in moonlight reflected back

Her own image, she knew it to be her,

But why was she at the lake at midnight?

Why didn’t she know how she got there?

And why was she naked on the lake shore.

A cool breeze blew off the quiet water

Which played gently with her auburn curls

Caressing her velvet skin, arousing her

She felt her nipples erect, then shivered

But not from the cold, she felt a passion

Welling up within her, a heat she had

Not felt before and may never feel again

Was everything as it appeared to seem

Or was it in fact just a vivid erotic dream?

LECHEROUS

 

When I see a young woman

Dressed seductively to flirt

I wonder what I would find

Hiding up beneath her skirt

Will it be the neatest nest?

Or the wildest overgrown thatch

Will it be the fullest bush?

Or an over groomed snatch

And if there is a hairy muff

Will the collar match the cuff?

The answer is of no import

Its just an old mans dirty thought

SILKEN

 

Beneath my fingers, Her

Skin, quivering, simpering,

Was like living silk

CONCUPISCENCE # 4

In my fecundity I see you

And all the dirty things you do

Self-abuse and things of that kind

And being rogered from behind

But I don’t feel any shame

Because you don’t even know my name

ROSE TINTED GOGGLES

 

She walked boldly into the pub

Mutton dressed as lamb

In clothes that didn’t suit her figure

Or her generation

She had too many miles on the clock

From all the journeys round the block

She was a real old spunker

With a bad case of “tits on belly”

Plus she had hairy armpits

And was decidedly smelly

Nonetheless viewed through beer goggles

She would look more attractive

And would doubtless see some action

CONCUPISCENCE # 3

Each man doth aspire

With she he doth admire

To ignite loves blazing fire

And then the burning desire

Of the impassioned esquire

Is to quench the maiden’s fire