MY FAVOURITE THINGS # 1
Black lacy stocking, suspenders or garters
Silk cami-knickers will do nicely for starters
Brassiered packages with straps like strings
These are a few of my favourite things
Petite little strumpets and long legged fillies
Brunettes and redheads stripped down to their frillies
Uniformed Nurses oh the pleasures they bring
These are a few of my favourite things
When the lust strikes
When the urge stings
When I'm feeling taught
I simply remember my favourite things
And then find an easy sort
IN THE BACK SEAT OF THE CAR
My wife said she'd like to have sex
In the back seat of the car
I thought things are looking up
I like what I’m hearing so far
Then she said she'd like to have sex
In the back of someone else’s car
I thought things are looking up
I like what I’m hearing so far
Then she said she'd like to have sex
With the guy we just met in the bar
BLIND DATES
I love going on blind dates
They just thrill me to bits
They don’t suit everyone
But hey if the cap fits
I do lots of blind dates
As many as time permits
We meet in a quiet place
Where I sit and stare at their tits
DO YOU HAVE A BRAZILIAN?
Are you sporting a Brazilian?
I think you might be Gillian
I don’t think you have a silly’n
Not like your kid sister Lillian
Who leans towards a Chilean
Or your older sister Jillian
With her moustachioed Sicilian
No I think you my daring Gillian
Might well have a Brazilian
Which is probably a chilly’n
DIRTY-BLONDE HAIR
Oh pretty girl
With the dirty-blonde hair
You may be the answer
To a lonely mans prayer
I have been watching
You standing there
And I’d like to ask
A question if I dare
Are you as dirty
As your dirty-blonde hair
ASTRONOMICAL LOVE
From the moons of Jupiter
And the areolas peaks
Across the navel plains
To the crater of Uranus
And the mound of Venus
BRITISH GIRLS ABROAD
British girls abroad
Fake tanned
Everything on display
Easy virtue
Easy lay
Begging for it?
Gagging for it?
Looking for it?
Perhaps not
But they know the way
BRITISH LADS ABROAD
British lads abroad
On the pull
Like what they see
With undiscerning eye
Out to play
Looking for an easy lay
On another 18-30 holiday
Friday, 11 November 2011
ADMIRATION AND LOVE # 1
CRIMSON HEADED MAIDEN FAIR
All I can do is stand and stare
At the crimson headed maiden fair
The girl with the flaming red hair
Oh beautiful maiden standing there
With tresses of flaming red hair
Please be the answer to my prayer
HOLIDAY ROMANCE
You wanted love
Sweet thing
A holiday romance
Not a brief fling
You wanted love
Romance and kisses
Holding hands
And making wishes
You sought a lover
In a romantic way
You should have known
At the end of the day
He sought a “gagging for it”
Nice easy lay
That was his idea
Of a romantic holiday
PERFECT LOVE CAN BE ILLUSIVE
Perfect love can be illusive
For perfect love is unique
Perfect sex is not exclusive
For perfect sex is just technique
OPEN YOUR EYES ANGEL
Open your eyes Angel
Wipe away the sleep
Be very careful
Don’t sell yourself cheap
Watch out angel
Whatever you do
He’ll break your heart
And make you blue
He’ll get what he wants
Then he’ll wave goodbye
Leaving you sullied
Leaving you to cry
He will have a place to go
For his next bit of frilly lace
Another silly girl
Just as easy to disgrace
Another notch on the bedpost
Another easy conquest
Leaving you alone
Broken hearted and bereft
YOU SLIPPED THROUGH MY FINGERS
You slipped through my fingers
All those yesterdays ago,
How the regret still lingers
Of the way I let you go
All I can do is stand and stare
At the crimson headed maiden fair
The girl with the flaming red hair
Oh beautiful maiden standing there
With tresses of flaming red hair
Please be the answer to my prayer
HOLIDAY ROMANCE
You wanted love
Sweet thing
A holiday romance
Not a brief fling
You wanted love
Romance and kisses
Holding hands
And making wishes
You sought a lover
In a romantic way
You should have known
At the end of the day
He sought a “gagging for it”
Nice easy lay
That was his idea
Of a romantic holiday
PERFECT LOVE CAN BE ILLUSIVE
Perfect love can be illusive
For perfect love is unique
Perfect sex is not exclusive
For perfect sex is just technique
OPEN YOUR EYES ANGEL
Open your eyes Angel
Wipe away the sleep
Be very careful
Don’t sell yourself cheap
Watch out angel
Whatever you do
He’ll break your heart
And make you blue
He’ll get what he wants
Then he’ll wave goodbye
Leaving you sullied
Leaving you to cry
He will have a place to go
For his next bit of frilly lace
Another silly girl
Just as easy to disgrace
Another notch on the bedpost
Another easy conquest
Leaving you alone
Broken hearted and bereft
YOU SLIPPED THROUGH MY FINGERS
You slipped through my fingers
All those yesterdays ago,
How the regret still lingers
Of the way I let you go
WAR AND REMEMBRANCE
IN THE GATHERING OF HOPEFUL HEARTS
In the gathering of hopeful hearts
The flame of peace does thrive
A flame whose embers glowed
When my granddad was still alive
The lads and pals in distant lands
To a man did purposely strive
They kept that tiny ember tended
To ensure that it would survive
And many a lad remained forever
To keep the flame of peace alive
ON REMEMBRANCE DAY
On Remembrance Day,
We honour the sacrificial dead
Those dedicated souls who.
Offered their lives in war
And were accepted
They were the loved ones,
Of their generation
They are the pride of ours
REMEMBER THEM WITH COMPASSION
Remember them with compassion
And not with jaundiced eye
Remember them with gratitude
For they went to war to die
Remember them with pride
Their honour we must not deny
Remember it’s because of them
We stand beneath a free blue sky
DAWN PATROL
You would find them
Up where the air was thin
And the cold burnt
The wood and canvas kites
Prowled the skies
Searching the clouds below
For the enemy silhouettes
And when sighted below
To attack from the sun
And deliver their chattering death
AUSCHWITZ
Auschwitz in essence
Was a processing plant
Or perhaps more accurately
A recycling plant,
Recycling an abundant commodity,
i.e. lower forms of life,
Into a revenue stream
By stripping the resaleable parts
Clothing, jewelry, hair, teeth
And burning what was left.
A cold and calculated business
Inhumanity on an industrial scale.
So the next time
You cast yesterdays must have device
Into your recyling bin
Just remember the Germans did that with people
MONUMENT
Each faceless name
In neat regimen
Of stone masons text
Is one of the fallen
Long forgotten names
Cut deep into the stone
Marking the sacrifice
Of battles Histories
The cold stone sentinel
A poignant reminder
CENOTAPH
Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warriors past
But not to glorify
There tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost
In the gathering of hopeful hearts
The flame of peace does thrive
A flame whose embers glowed
When my granddad was still alive
The lads and pals in distant lands
To a man did purposely strive
They kept that tiny ember tended
To ensure that it would survive
And many a lad remained forever
To keep the flame of peace alive
ON REMEMBRANCE DAY
On Remembrance Day,
We honour the sacrificial dead
Those dedicated souls who.
Offered their lives in war
And were accepted
They were the loved ones,
Of their generation
They are the pride of ours
REMEMBER THEM WITH COMPASSION
Remember them with compassion
And not with jaundiced eye
Remember them with gratitude
For they went to war to die
Remember them with pride
Their honour we must not deny
Remember it’s because of them
We stand beneath a free blue sky
DAWN PATROL
You would find them
Up where the air was thin
And the cold burnt
The wood and canvas kites
Prowled the skies
Searching the clouds below
For the enemy silhouettes
And when sighted below
To attack from the sun
And deliver their chattering death
AUSCHWITZ
Auschwitz in essence
Was a processing plant
Or perhaps more accurately
A recycling plant,
Recycling an abundant commodity,
i.e. lower forms of life,
Into a revenue stream
By stripping the resaleable parts
Clothing, jewelry, hair, teeth
And burning what was left.
A cold and calculated business
Inhumanity on an industrial scale.
So the next time
You cast yesterdays must have device
Into your recyling bin
Just remember the Germans did that with people
MONUMENT
Each faceless name
In neat regimen
Of stone masons text
Is one of the fallen
Long forgotten names
Cut deep into the stone
Marking the sacrifice
Of battles Histories
The cold stone sentinel
A poignant reminder
CENOTAPH
Bow your undressed head
Before the cenotaph
A reverent monument
To warriors past
But not to glorify
There tragic loss
But to mark the moment
And count the cost
Friday, 28 October 2011
HALLOWEEN TALES
THE OLD BLACK WITCH’S CAT # 1
The most comfortably fat
Old black witch’s cat
Is often known to take a nap
In her black pointed hat
AT THE WITCHING HOUR
At the Witching hour
The Zombies walk
The Banshees scream
And the Ravens squawk
The Witches’ fly
The familiar’s talk
The Vampires bite
And the Demons stalk
LITTLE MONSTERS
Little monsters in costumes
Looking for candy treats
Terrorizing the neighbours
All along the street
They prey on young or old
To satisfy their appetites
Treats are handed over
To creatures of the night
With their goody bags
Full of every candy treat
They can’t wait to get home
Before they start to eat
Then when the bags are empty
They realise their mistake
They’ve eaten so much candy
They’ve all got stomach ache
WITCHNAPPED
On her broomstick she swoops
And into her arms she scoops
A poor unsuspecting young man
Because as a witch she can
And carries him off through the night
Then uses him for her delight
In the light of the cauldrons fire
She indulges her every desire
THE LITTLE BEWITCHER
She is a little bewitcher
The little servant of Wicca
Who has ensnared my heart
Which I opposed from the start
I was happy being single
But she has made my senses tingle
And she used her Wiccan ways
Against all resistance raised
It is not some fanciful notion
To blame an exotic potion
Or the casting of a spell
To bewitch me quite so well
Now she bends me too her will
And gently holds me still
Then this little Wiccan miss
Captures my soul with her kiss
MY LITTLE WICKED WITCH AND I
My little wicked witch and I
Love to fly across the night sky
And travel to special places
Where no one knows our faces
Where door with bolt and lock
Ensures, Witch and Warlock
Can scratch their every itch
And a Warlock and a Witch
Can safely enjoy a little sin
Without familiars listening in
DREAM WITCH
There is a witch of whom I’m fond
Who could carry me off beyond
And we’d do magic with my wand
We would quaff her special brew
Fly on a broomstick made for two
And do things naughty witches do
But alas our special tandem flight
Full of wicked and delicious delight
Is but a dream I dream each night
THE WITCHING HOUR
On All Hallows Eve take special care
You may not see them but they are there
And as they mix up their witches brew
They’ll have their witchy eyes on you
IN THE BLACKNESS OF THE NIGHT
In the blackness of the night
Performing their satanic rite
Satan’s followers incite
To every Demons delight
DEMONS WALK THE EARTH
Demons walk the earth
On All Hallows Eve
And will snatch away
Your soul at their ease
PHANTASM
What is that ghostly apparition?
Is that ghostly figure a Phantasm?
Come to haunt and terrorise us?
No it’s the kid from next door, Adam
THE OLD BLACK WITCH’S CAT # 2
The old black witch’s cat
Has nothing much to do
He’s a sleepy old familiar
Oddly named Witchitypoo
He is quite partial to a mouse
Should one happen into view
But he doesn’t stir himself
For he never has to pursue
There is no thought of chasing
And no need to bite and chew
For with a flick of his paw
A spell is cast by Witchitypoo
And then he leisurely dines
On a tasty mouse stew
The most comfortably fat
Old black witch’s cat
Is often known to take a nap
In her black pointed hat
AT THE WITCHING HOUR
At the Witching hour
The Zombies walk
The Banshees scream
And the Ravens squawk
The Witches’ fly
The familiar’s talk
The Vampires bite
And the Demons stalk
LITTLE MONSTERS
Little monsters in costumes
Looking for candy treats
Terrorizing the neighbours
All along the street
They prey on young or old
To satisfy their appetites
Treats are handed over
To creatures of the night
With their goody bags
Full of every candy treat
They can’t wait to get home
Before they start to eat
Then when the bags are empty
They realise their mistake
They’ve eaten so much candy
They’ve all got stomach ache
WITCHNAPPED
On her broomstick she swoops
And into her arms she scoops
A poor unsuspecting young man
Because as a witch she can
And carries him off through the night
Then uses him for her delight
In the light of the cauldrons fire
She indulges her every desire
THE LITTLE BEWITCHER
She is a little bewitcher
The little servant of Wicca
Who has ensnared my heart
Which I opposed from the start
I was happy being single
But she has made my senses tingle
And she used her Wiccan ways
Against all resistance raised
It is not some fanciful notion
To blame an exotic potion
Or the casting of a spell
To bewitch me quite so well
Now she bends me too her will
And gently holds me still
Then this little Wiccan miss
Captures my soul with her kiss
MY LITTLE WICKED WITCH AND I
My little wicked witch and I
Love to fly across the night sky
And travel to special places
Where no one knows our faces
Where door with bolt and lock
Ensures, Witch and Warlock
Can scratch their every itch
And a Warlock and a Witch
Can safely enjoy a little sin
Without familiars listening in
DREAM WITCH
There is a witch of whom I’m fond
Who could carry me off beyond
And we’d do magic with my wand
We would quaff her special brew
Fly on a broomstick made for two
And do things naughty witches do
But alas our special tandem flight
Full of wicked and delicious delight
Is but a dream I dream each night
THE WITCHING HOUR
On All Hallows Eve take special care
You may not see them but they are there
And as they mix up their witches brew
They’ll have their witchy eyes on you
IN THE BLACKNESS OF THE NIGHT
In the blackness of the night
Performing their satanic rite
Satan’s followers incite
To every Demons delight
DEMONS WALK THE EARTH
Demons walk the earth
On All Hallows Eve
And will snatch away
Your soul at their ease
PHANTASM
What is that ghostly apparition?
Is that ghostly figure a Phantasm?
Come to haunt and terrorise us?
No it’s the kid from next door, Adam
THE OLD BLACK WITCH’S CAT # 2
The old black witch’s cat
Has nothing much to do
He’s a sleepy old familiar
Oddly named Witchitypoo
He is quite partial to a mouse
Should one happen into view
But he doesn’t stir himself
For he never has to pursue
There is no thought of chasing
And no need to bite and chew
For with a flick of his paw
A spell is cast by Witchitypoo
And then he leisurely dines
On a tasty mouse stew
Saturday, 15 October 2011
HARE COURSING
On the whole,
No pun intended,
It was a pleasant day
On the Golf course
The sun was warm
The wind was light
The golf was
A mixture of the sublime
And the ridiculous
A day of ups and downs
As my scorecard testified
But the par 4 15th
Was a different story
I had hit a crisp drive
From the elevated tee
And away it flew
Straight down the middle
As Bing once sang
It landed just short of the dog leg
Kicked to the right
And rolled perfectly round the turn
After such a shot
You feel ten feet tall
As you stride down the fairway
And I felt every inch of it
When I reached my ball
I found it sitting up invitingly
And with an unhindered path to the green
I had a birdie chance.
Slightly ahead and to the right
A rather large Rabbit,
Was enjoying the afternoon sun
Blissfully unaware of what was to come
I selected my club
And addressed the ball
“Just hit it straight”
I told myself
I swung the club towards the ball
In a perfect ark
But I must have lifted my head
Because there was and ugly contact
And the ball sliced away
In the direction of the Rabbit
Now had he just stayed still
He would have lived
But alas at the sound of the sliced contact
The Rabbit leapt vertically in the air
Straight into the path of the ball
And died instantly
Now looking back I could have claimed
That the Rabbit put me off
But it didn’t really
If the ball had followed its path
I would have been out of bounds
So the Rabbit sacrificed himself
To save my par
No pun intended,
It was a pleasant day
On the Golf course
The sun was warm
The wind was light
The golf was
A mixture of the sublime
And the ridiculous
A day of ups and downs
As my scorecard testified
But the par 4 15th
Was a different story
I had hit a crisp drive
From the elevated tee
And away it flew
Straight down the middle
As Bing once sang
It landed just short of the dog leg
Kicked to the right
And rolled perfectly round the turn
After such a shot
You feel ten feet tall
As you stride down the fairway
And I felt every inch of it
When I reached my ball
I found it sitting up invitingly
And with an unhindered path to the green
I had a birdie chance.
Slightly ahead and to the right
A rather large Rabbit,
Was enjoying the afternoon sun
Blissfully unaware of what was to come
I selected my club
And addressed the ball
“Just hit it straight”
I told myself
I swung the club towards the ball
In a perfect ark
But I must have lifted my head
Because there was and ugly contact
And the ball sliced away
In the direction of the Rabbit
Now had he just stayed still
He would have lived
But alas at the sound of the sliced contact
The Rabbit leapt vertically in the air
Straight into the path of the ball
And died instantly
Now looking back I could have claimed
That the Rabbit put me off
But it didn’t really
If the ball had followed its path
I would have been out of bounds
So the Rabbit sacrificed himself
To save my par
SHE LOOKS LIKE THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
She looks like the girl next door,
Well my interpretation anyway,
And for me she literally is
The girl next door
The studious Rebecca
Full of cleverness
The only child of the Coopers
Now the studious orphan Rebecca
The bookish girl next door
A homely girl though
In the unpretentious sense
Certainly not plain,
But rather understated
She is unworldly
In as much as the temporal world
Holds no sway for her
Rebecca is an attractive girl
Though not in any obvious way
Dressed casually, always
Mousy hair worn indistinctly
She has never been flash, quirky
Or groundbreaking
No its homespun sweaters
And supermarket jeans
Not exactly the height of fashion
But not dowdy nor frumpy
Unlike most of the world
I look beneath the homespun
As I have all my life
But no one else sees Rebecca
Alas she does not see me
The bookish girl next door
She has her heroes of fiction
How could I compete?
With Ahab or Hornblower
Copperfield or Darcy
Well my interpretation anyway,
And for me she literally is
The girl next door
The studious Rebecca
Full of cleverness
The only child of the Coopers
Now the studious orphan Rebecca
The bookish girl next door
A homely girl though
In the unpretentious sense
Certainly not plain,
But rather understated
She is unworldly
In as much as the temporal world
Holds no sway for her
Rebecca is an attractive girl
Though not in any obvious way
Dressed casually, always
Mousy hair worn indistinctly
She has never been flash, quirky
Or groundbreaking
No its homespun sweaters
And supermarket jeans
Not exactly the height of fashion
But not dowdy nor frumpy
Unlike most of the world
I look beneath the homespun
As I have all my life
But no one else sees Rebecca
Alas she does not see me
The bookish girl next door
She has her heroes of fiction
How could I compete?
With Ahab or Hornblower
Copperfield or Darcy
ANONYMOUS ANGEL HIDDEN FROM VIEW
I saw you this morning
As I walked to work
You were a little in front of me,
For part of the way,
And you fell beneath my gaze.
I noticed your feet first,
Clad in sporting wear
Your shoes were sexless,
Indeterminate in gender
The only distinguishing feature
Was that they were small, But that was all.
Your black trousers were baggy
And gave nothing away
As was your sweatshirt
Which was large, long and grey,
Reaching down to cover your bum
Your brown hair was medium length
Of no particular style
So could have been masculine or feminine.
Had the necessity not arisen
For you to reach into your back pocket
I would not have noticed
The shape of your buttocks
The movement of which,
As you walked, gave you away
You were most definitely a girl
As I got closer the wind moved your hair
And through the fine brunette strands
I glimpsed in the delicate lobe
A simple feminine stud in your ear.
You continued walking head down
Watching your sexless feet
Afraid to look the world in the eye
Or afraid the world would notice you?
Either one might be true
I was level with you as we reached the kerb
And you looked up in my direction
To check if the road was clear
And I glimpsed your face,
A pretty face, a lovely face,
Briefly our eyes met
Beautiful soft blue eyes
But I could not hold your gaze
And you looked back at your feet
Withdrawing again into your shell
But I know you’re in there now
So tomorrow morning
I will look for you again
As I walked to work
You were a little in front of me,
For part of the way,
And you fell beneath my gaze.
I noticed your feet first,
Clad in sporting wear
Your shoes were sexless,
Indeterminate in gender
The only distinguishing feature
Was that they were small, But that was all.
Your black trousers were baggy
And gave nothing away
As was your sweatshirt
Which was large, long and grey,
Reaching down to cover your bum
Your brown hair was medium length
Of no particular style
So could have been masculine or feminine.
Had the necessity not arisen
For you to reach into your back pocket
I would not have noticed
The shape of your buttocks
The movement of which,
As you walked, gave you away
You were most definitely a girl
As I got closer the wind moved your hair
And through the fine brunette strands
I glimpsed in the delicate lobe
A simple feminine stud in your ear.
You continued walking head down
Watching your sexless feet
Afraid to look the world in the eye
Or afraid the world would notice you?
Either one might be true
I was level with you as we reached the kerb
And you looked up in my direction
To check if the road was clear
And I glimpsed your face,
A pretty face, a lovely face,
Briefly our eyes met
Beautiful soft blue eyes
But I could not hold your gaze
And you looked back at your feet
Withdrawing again into your shell
But I know you’re in there now
So tomorrow morning
I will look for you again
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