Thursday, 4 September 2008


There's something about a cellist
That really turns me on
A female cellist obviously
In a low cut evening dress
Of emerald green velvet
The great polished instrument
Between her long black stockined legs
Her long brunette hair
Dancing across her naked shoulders
Brushing her alabaster skin
In frantic rhythm to her playing
As she delivers her rendition
To a largely disinterested audience
Sat in the lavish surroundings
Of a grand hotel lobby
A pale willowy figure called Deidre
Purposefully thrashing out a piece by Elgar
Or playing some uplifting Vivaldi
Maybe some Mesmeric Schubert
Or music to slash your wrists by
Courtesy of Mahler or Wagner
The music itself is unimportant
Ok its not cellists that turns me on
But there's something about Deidre
That definitely does
When she's playing the cello

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