Tuesday, 1 March 2011


I was stranded and lonely with time to kill
And I was looking for someone to cure my ill
They told me about the only available “miss”
Who went by the unkind name of ugly Agnes
“Left on the shelf, plain as a pike as a staff”
“Facing the wall” he said followed by a laugh
I figured she’d be better than nothing at all
The girl left on the shelf, facing the wall
They gave me some direction to follow
Where I crept to and peeked in the window
I spied her in the candle lights flicker
Legs akimbo showing a glimpse of knicker
This old maid, who’d been left on the shelf
Was sat home alone pleasuring herself
There was nothing homely about this old maid
As she caressed herself and erotically played
And as I watched her deft self seduction
I was anxious to make my introduction
Outside I banged hard on the front door
Inside I banged her hard on the floor
But the savage and primeval union
Led to a more tender sensual communion
What had begun as “any old port in a storm”
Ended with me proud to stay till the dawn
Now I often get stranded with time to kill
And I know where to go to cure my ill
The local call her Ugly Agnes or Plain Jane
But I go to love her again and again

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