Lay for a Lonely Farmer
She was lovely as the night
Though craven her soul
He mistook her for Snow White
But she took her toll.
Confused at first by her repose
The ottoman dire
Baffled by perverse argots
Lit itself on fire
Before the moon could rise
She rose, her heart aflame
He mistook her burning thighs
To mean she was fair game
Prince he was, but Charming not
His mouth full of swill,
His temper white hot,
And with lead in his quill.
She swiped at his codpiece
The cad! He ripped her bodice
Aflame became his rod-piece
So shockingly immodest!
Piranhas in the palace pond
Blushed to see this rash display
But, lips so red and hair so blonde
Were not her thing--to his dismay
Her melon breasts and popeyed eyes
Were, on the whole, exotic
Her cellulite and thunder-thighs
Both made the prince neurotic
He grabbed a sheepskin condom
And slipped it on his scepter
But, just as in his John-dom,
He couldn't get her wetter
She truly was quite unimpressed
He had said he was a general
But once he was undressed
His disease, it was veneral
| Contributors: | Elaine G, keith c, Edgar, d, Kansas Sam, loaf, hagfish, Hagfish, Dassn't Say, Kevin Andrew Murphy, Anon., Evan, NH, Francine, Nym. |
| Poem finished: | 17th July 2003. |