Lady Wentworth, just back from the hunt,
Was assailed with an instrument blunt,
With such strength and such force,
She could not sit a horse
On the region that suffered the brunt!
A musical interlude
Only give a rich girl a free hand,
And your fuck will be splendid and grand:
She’ll arrange, when she comes,
For the beating of drums,
Trumpet fanfare, or whole damned brass band!
Hitchcock
From the stable-yard’s deepening gloom
Lady Sarah, with cheeks all abloom,
Came with clothing skewiff,
Whilst with organ still stiff,
In the shadows lurked Hitchcock, the groom!
Puppy love
The young lady who lives in the Grange,
For her hounds has a passion quite strange:
She does things with her beagle
Distinctly illegal,
And has, says her house-maid, the mange!
The Raj
In the days when Brittania was grander,
A girl could laze on her verandah,
And tickle her twat
When the weather was hot,
While a muscular black fellow fanned her.
Convivial pursuit
The rich ride in pursuit of the fox,
Across fields, through gardens and flocks.
It’s a sexual thing:
The hounds bay, bugles ring,
Jodhpurs strain over fannies and cocks.
Literary appreciation
I consider it jolly good form
To reside where the climate is warm:
When the weather’s cyclonic,
To drink gin and tonic,
And talk about Somerset Maugham.
Rules of Games
With the tip of my pearl-handled foil,
I toucheed her clitoris royal…
The onlookers were hushed…
Quoth Her Majesty, flushed,
“That is not, Sir, according to Hoyle!”
Faint heart, fair lady
When Leticia Fitzgerald-Jones fainted,
A chap not the least bit acquainted
Thought “How’s that for luck!”
He partook of a fuck,
And then left her there, gooey and tainted!
Higher things
Said the milk-maid to James Brown Esquire,
“Milord, I shall truly expire!
Your cock, long and wide
Has undone me inside,
But before I die, push it in higher!”