They’d had sex, but it wasn’t her fault,
Not from love, nor from lust, not assault,
It was more the moonlight,
That their stars just seemed right,
More the vibe, or the groove, the gestalt!
One night, in the saloon
“He must be a damn card-sharp, the varmint!”
She thought, in her last under-garment,
“He’s some kind of joker,
To cheat at strip poker,
But still, it’s good fun and no harm in’t!”
Tragic heroines
Shakespeare’s men couldn’t cut it, I fear,
Not Hamlet, Macbeth nor King Lear;
Lady Mac was much steelier,
Portia, Cordelia;
The kings and the knights were small beer.
The spoils
Though her parents could not have been stricter,
Love finally turned out the victor;
It might have been fate,
Or else, on that first date,
Rather possibly, how he had licked her!
The girl in the bubble
He was dapper, his hair was smooth-slicked;
She was well-bred, her morals were strict,
But temptation was great,
And I’m sad to relate
That soon more than her conscience was pricked!
Grooming and deportment
Though she knew what she did was forbidden,
To whisper about, and keep hidden,
She still loved the groom,
In the haystack by whom,
At a gallop, each day she was ridden!
Pandora's box
Miss Pandora confined her wild id
In its box, and she sat on the lid;
But her impulse was such…
Being tempted so much…
She reached down and… you know what she did!
Coitus interruptus
When her scandalised mum interrupted,
His penis, inside her, erupted.
The poor mother fainted;
The daughter, now tainted,
Went on being gladly corrupted.”
Dishevelment
Stockings torn, hair and clothing dishevelled,
She drunkenly, merrily revelled,
Cavorted half-nude,
In ways wanton and lewd,
By booze, sex and the music bedevilled.
The eyes have it
Though she’d only just recently met him,
She knew that she’d never forget him;
His mouth, his dark eyes,
His strong hands on her thighs,
When he’d lifted her skirt, and she’d let him!