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Who's Well
Ding, dong, dell, her pussy's doing well,
With visits carefully spread between,
Three gentleman; no other sees.
As I did once give frolic,
With her darling cat,
In a carpark not too solid,
Awaiting a train to here me back.
But it is not the fur I yearn,
From this distant lass,
For I come to free my burrs,
With her wisdom and heartfelt laff.
And I think good luck my dear,
That you have a choice,
But I am just content to hear,
The rhythm of her voice.
(c) R.H.Elliott 200
I read the opening to this and thought to myself if this poem were ever analysed by scholars centuries from now they could misinterpret a lot of what you say… then I read your comment and I realized I wasn’t too far off with my assumptions.
A piece that’s enough to make anyone blush… the last line is very beautiful and sensual.
You have done it once more, my dear.