Post by westcuntry on Nov 25, 2010 14:44:06 GMT
The air so crisp, keen on the teeth,
Worms burrowing deep beneath,
Birds little balls fluffed up feather,
How do they stand this freezing weather?
All the time I want to pee,
Bloody weather does to me,
My knob so wee, so shrunken,
No longer like a elephants trunken(I WISH)
No rules for me,
In poetry,
Try to create, to entertain,
Hope you want to read me again.
So back to winter and all it means,
Brussel sprouts now, not runner beans,
Freezing feet in bed on sleeping wifes warm ass,
She smooth skinned and beautifully sexy lass.
Go down shopping in the street,
Try to stay upright on my feet,
Pavements icy slippery with no grit,
Our local council sure is faeces (or poo-poos).
But then I think back many years ago,
Summers long and sunny, winters always snow,
No central heating or double glazing,
Inside windows patterned with frosty mazing.
Old army greatcoat on the bed,
Clothes pulled right up over head,
A brick wrapped in a towel to warm the sheet,
In those days that was such a treat.
I enjoy my blazing fire,
Old logs woodlices funeral pyre,
Poor little buggers frantic to no avail.
Shrivel up nose to tail.
Large glass of whiskey tasting, sipping,
A few of those will have wife dripping,
loosens up her inhibitions, eager for fun,
So hot, so receptive once playing began.
The huge Afhghan coat down on the floor,
make love roughly me that draught under the door,
Roasting on one side with the fire,
The wife moaning..higher, higher.
Then as we wriggle doing our thing,
Yep, the bloody doorbell gives a ring,
She vanishes off up the stairs,
Whilst I frantically tuck away my pubic hairs.
Open the door legs shaking from interrupted play,
Shadowy figure shoves foward a tray,
The poppy day collection lady as she yearly did,
God bless her I bunged in five quid.
She went up the garden path in the feezing night,
The clear sky sprinkled with stars, wondrous sight,
The wife came down laughing out loud,
My cock deflated, no longer proud.
We dressed up warm went out into the night,
Arms locked together, cuddling tight,
Walked through deserted streets breath steaming,
Moon and stars calling life and lifes meaning.
To think that men had walked upon that moon,
Marvellous but at that moment out of tune,
The tides and earths nature under the silver planets thrall,
Tides governed, long forgotten customs rembered not at all.
The dark hills all around looming over our small town,
Beech woods covering all around,
Then lights, nostrils widen mouth watering begin
Helpless to the irrisistable we enter in.
Two lots of cod and chips please, yes vinegar and salt,
Just being greedy, we shouldnt ought,
Greasy fingers dipping in chewing crispy batter,
Somehow now the cold didn't matter.
Silently we walked and ate,
Me and my lifelong mate,
She is not from this country originally,
But from a land far over the sea,
But that night those fish and chips oh utterly sublime,
Just right for the place and time,
Then home and give the wife a poke
Oh silly me I meant the fire(what a bloke)
I'm knocking on now you see,
My mind still young, young and free,
Repeat prescription of the little blue pill
Enables my body to match my will.
Keeps the wife happy and content,
Twinkle in my eye matches my intent,
Slow,slow quick quick slow,
Whew shagging makes me puff and blow.
Life is not all fun we have our worries,
Like a snowstorm, comes the flurries,
Winter a time for thought, reflection,
Past times to muse, to mention.
I have my pipe (no tobbacco just weed)
Oh yummy so very good indeed,
Helps all lifes aches and pains no end,
No doubt of that make me feel I'm on the mend.
I'm sitting by the window as I compose this for Edna,
The Rowan tree red with berrys, help sustain the birds,
Ponds thin coating of ice covering newts and frogs,
Bugger me it's cold I need more logs.
Well this is going on and on hope it's not boring,
Hasn't made you feel like snoring,
I'm off to have my ususal trawl for porn,
Marvellous stuff for giving me the
Stimulous to be creative...........
Worms burrowing deep beneath,
Birds little balls fluffed up feather,
How do they stand this freezing weather?
All the time I want to pee,
Bloody weather does to me,
My knob so wee, so shrunken,
No longer like a elephants trunken(I WISH)
No rules for me,
In poetry,
Try to create, to entertain,
Hope you want to read me again.
So back to winter and all it means,
Brussel sprouts now, not runner beans,
Freezing feet in bed on sleeping wifes warm ass,
She smooth skinned and beautifully sexy lass.
Go down shopping in the street,
Try to stay upright on my feet,
Pavements icy slippery with no grit,
Our local council sure is faeces (or poo-poos).
But then I think back many years ago,
Summers long and sunny, winters always snow,
No central heating or double glazing,
Inside windows patterned with frosty mazing.
Old army greatcoat on the bed,
Clothes pulled right up over head,
A brick wrapped in a towel to warm the sheet,
In those days that was such a treat.
I enjoy my blazing fire,
Old logs woodlices funeral pyre,
Poor little buggers frantic to no avail.
Shrivel up nose to tail.
Large glass of whiskey tasting, sipping,
A few of those will have wife dripping,
loosens up her inhibitions, eager for fun,
So hot, so receptive once playing began.
The huge Afhghan coat down on the floor,
make love roughly me that draught under the door,
Roasting on one side with the fire,
The wife moaning..higher, higher.
Then as we wriggle doing our thing,
Yep, the bloody doorbell gives a ring,
She vanishes off up the stairs,
Whilst I frantically tuck away my pubic hairs.
Open the door legs shaking from interrupted play,
Shadowy figure shoves foward a tray,
The poppy day collection lady as she yearly did,
God bless her I bunged in five quid.
She went up the garden path in the feezing night,
The clear sky sprinkled with stars, wondrous sight,
The wife came down laughing out loud,
My cock deflated, no longer proud.
We dressed up warm went out into the night,
Arms locked together, cuddling tight,
Walked through deserted streets breath steaming,
Moon and stars calling life and lifes meaning.
To think that men had walked upon that moon,
Marvellous but at that moment out of tune,
The tides and earths nature under the silver planets thrall,
Tides governed, long forgotten customs rembered not at all.
The dark hills all around looming over our small town,
Beech woods covering all around,
Then lights, nostrils widen mouth watering begin
Helpless to the irrisistable we enter in.
Two lots of cod and chips please, yes vinegar and salt,
Just being greedy, we shouldnt ought,
Greasy fingers dipping in chewing crispy batter,
Somehow now the cold didn't matter.
Silently we walked and ate,
Me and my lifelong mate,
She is not from this country originally,
But from a land far over the sea,
But that night those fish and chips oh utterly sublime,
Just right for the place and time,
Then home and give the wife a poke
Oh silly me I meant the fire(what a bloke)
I'm knocking on now you see,
My mind still young, young and free,
Repeat prescription of the little blue pill
Enables my body to match my will.
Keeps the wife happy and content,
Twinkle in my eye matches my intent,
Slow,slow quick quick slow,
Whew shagging makes me puff and blow.
Life is not all fun we have our worries,
Like a snowstorm, comes the flurries,
Winter a time for thought, reflection,
Past times to muse, to mention.
I have my pipe (no tobbacco just weed)
Oh yummy so very good indeed,
Helps all lifes aches and pains no end,
No doubt of that make me feel I'm on the mend.
I'm sitting by the window as I compose this for Edna,
The Rowan tree red with berrys, help sustain the birds,
Ponds thin coating of ice covering newts and frogs,
Bugger me it's cold I need more logs.
Well this is going on and on hope it's not boring,
Hasn't made you feel like snoring,
I'm off to have my ususal trawl for porn,
Marvellous stuff for giving me the
Stimulous to be creative...........
