RED FEATHERS

 

She Wears Red Feathers

And a Huly-Huly Skirt

Or so the old song goes

To me she sounds like a flirt

Let’s see how alluring she is

In Primark joggers and T-shirt

DRAB DOREEN

 

My memory takes me back

To a time when I was young

And I was pleasurably distracted by Doreen

Dear Doreen, who people rather unkindly called plain

True her face was heavily freckled

And she rarely wore any makeup

But her eyes were the most dazzling blue and always smiled

Her hair was straight and chestnut brown

She was a skinny little thing and flat chested

But with the most exquisite bottom

I don’t know why people thought her plain

Maybe it’s because Doreen is a plain sounding name

I know one thing that is true

They would never have called her plain

If they had seen her in the bedroom

COLLAR AND CUFFS

 

Hey there blondie I really like your hair

But I bet that it’s a different shade down there

I bet you don’t have any white, blonde thatch

Your collar and cuffs certainly won’t match

Or maybe a mismatch really isn’t anticipated

Possibly you have already defoliated

I don’t mind you with or without down below

I’m an easy to please kind of fellow

And if you’re a bottle blonde I don’t care

Or if there is a mismatch with body hair

Any way it comes that’s my simple philosophy

And besides it’s not something I’m likely to see

NEVER JUDGE A BOOK

There is much more to a woman
Than what she can put on show
There is more in the emporium
Than there is in the shop window

Like an expensive Champagne
That a Lambrusco will out fizzle
A woman displaying all her assets
Is invariably all sausage and no sizzle

It’s the homely types that most excite
Hiding their figure neath frumpy dress
Shy and modest to the outside world
It’s the quiet ones who most impress

Beneath sober dress they burn hottest
Much hotter than the most brazen vamp
And when you get them alone they turn
From prim librarian into wanton tramp