Once Upon A Time In 03

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Rowdy Living Press
Danger...your tender ears might get burned, so read at your own risk!

Submitted: February 24, 2017

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Submitted: February 24, 2017

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Back during the month of June,

On the first full moon,

I decided that I would have a little fun;

So I shunned day light,

Until the dark of midnight,

Without coming home until first peek of morning sun.

 

So out the second floor window I climbed,

Easing downward on a honeysuckle vine.

While the wolf was asleep,

I would creep,

Just to go and hunt a little grouse.

My sole fear was that

Only one would be single,

Another not willing,

And the other might have a raging spouse.

 

So first I went to see Queen JoJo,

Just to get a little shanshi mojo,

And to ask the clairvoyant high priestess

both “when” and “where.”

And she kindly replied before it got very late

“ o’er where the glory of the morning grows

dear mate,

Down by the old copper still at the county fair.”

 

So then I walked four blocks,

With the first strike of the grandfather clock

In the center of the town square.

I ran into one

Who placed herself within my reach

Who asked me if I was up to some blustery fun,

And a really firm peach with beautiful golden hair!

 

Well

as I was taking gratifying pleasure

in this kind deed,

Up walked a luscious three,

Who told me to hitch up

with the first readily available caboose;

Even though it must be a terrible sin

just to be sure to at least kiss the locomotive on the other end,

Since we  here ne’er have anything else to lose!

 

None of us were shorn,

Just don’t you dare put us to any test to have your sick fun,

Since we were all wearing our best dress

Into which we had been born,

With me trading buns on the run!

 

The big amazon hungered for more score;

most certainly there was no wrong

in this lustful midnight song,

dear son.

As she had her fill

until I was so damned  sore,

The scrumptious midget vixen

was most happy to play the rusty

Trombone!

 

Some might say

that I became the moonlight villain,

While I was chillin’

On that warm July midnight.

But only the sweetest angels know of

The labor in that precious flow,

And the amount of sweat in that most gracious effort,

That carried on until first daylight.

 

With the rise of the sun,

My midnight song was done,

And once more again

I stood before that blossoming honeysuckle vine.

The still slumbering good wolf was calling

And I was woefully yawning,

As I eased back neath those silken covers

so fine...

 

 

 

 

 

 


© Copyright 2018 H.L. Dowless. All rights reserved.

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