Apples to Orgasms

On a tuffet she lay,
As each dwindling ray,
Kissed her muffet like summer’s last lover.
Splayed without care,
And as perfectly bare,
As the autumn-blown branches above her.

Hand on her thigh,
Did she drip like the eye
Of a storm, calm, before its ascent.
Moans from her mouth,
Sent the birds soaring south
For the winter of her sweet content.

Like a spider,
Her fingers crept nimbly inside her,
And tickled her pink till she’d swoon.
At each lithe, little twiddle,
She’d fit like a fiddle,
Strung tautly, yet just out of tune.

Pleasure’s perennial petals
Fell gently and settled
By the bed of her chasm,
With each season that came,
So came she, in the same
Way one might compare apples to orgasms.

The joy it would bring
Her to usher in spring,
Made her flesh and her spirit both swell.
Delighted, she found,
Flowers bloomed from the ground,
In the spots where her honeydew fell.

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50 Shades of Hay

Returned from our ride,

Carl, Catherine and I’d,

Always find ourselves in disarray.

 Ο

Two little girls,

Penny loafers and curls,

‘Top a mud-smattered Clydesdale valet.

 Ο

Bedraggled with crud,

Would we scrub, soap and sud

At the comely colt’s calico coat.

Ο

Stood he seventeen hands,

Of a thoroughbred strand

(And of Flemish descent, I might note).

Ο

One day it was so,

As we buffed from below,

A gargantuan phallus unsheathed.

Ο

A portentous projection,

The equine erection,

“Clean the penis!” my friend brusquely breathed.

Ο

So we lathered and gripped,

But we slipped as it whipped.

Washing horse hog, it seemed, was a feat.

 Ο

When we mustered our might,

Firmly latching on tight,

The steed’s staff swept us clean off our feet.

Ο

“Don’t let go!” Catherine cried,

And for dear life, we tried

To hold on to the renegade rod.

Ο

To the cock, did we cling,

To and fro, would we swing,

Our foray, we feared fatally flawed.

Ο

Abrupt came the spasm,

Sheer stallion orgasm.

Like two little dolls, were we tossed.

 Ο

Unawares of the scope,

And presuming ‘twas soap

In which suddenly then we’d been glossed.

Ο

Now Forty years gone,

Fully grown and moved on,

Since that cosmically curious day.

Ο

Only just twenty-eight

Since sweet Cat met her fate,

Crushed to death ‘neath a large Cleveland Bay.

 Ο

By her grave I reflect,

As I pay my respect,

And I lay down a wreath of bay laurel.

 Ο

Every now and again,

Do I think of my friend,

And a calico Clydesdale called Carl.

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