When she plays her viola da gamba,
Curves sensuous, warm, lustrous, amber…
She likes to be nude,
To get more in the mood…
Her thighs thrum, her loins hum to the timbre!
Tag: loins
The dark prince
In her sleep her hand strayed to her crutch;
In her dreams her loins thrilled to the touch
Of a tall handsome prince
And, alas, ever since,
Mortal men have seemed dull, pretty much.
Viking lads
When young vikings would gather, they met
To bump heads, and to blather, and get
Drunk on ale or mead,
Bed a wench, splash their seed
‘Twixt her loins, in a lather of sweat!
Ground to a halt
Naked, sweating, they grapple and wrestle;
Loins grind like a mortar and pestle,
Hearts pound in their chests,
Hot sweat drips from her breasts,
Where, exhausted and spent, he’ll soon nestle.
Medusa
Her loins gripped, like the coils of Medusa,
The prick of her would-be seducer,
Who cried, “I shan’t hurt you!
I’ll honour your virtue…
If you could just make your thighs looser!