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Annie's shoebox

The Weeping Willow
throws out
encircling branches
and grows like nothing else
in my garden,
over the place where
I buried your body.
 
Words are your seeds
flirting with my mind.
Fertilized by imagination
wrapped in the embrace
of your love. Lustily sweet
hot from the press.
 
The internet is a funny place
for getting close to people,
all the good and none of the bad,
like dealing with smelly socks
or farting in bed.
 
Written for a Gunfight poetry challenge that had to have the use of nonsense words weaved throughout.
.
Fussocking My lady

And did you want to test our fate
upon this most auspicious date,
relying on my dash and derve
from one who only lives to serve?
My courtell rises oft in vain
for you to smash it down again,
beneath the rustle of your cape
I long to fussock moan and pape.

Spread now to me, oh lady fair,
the wondrous sliplets of your hair
it grows in gay profusion low
the very place that I would go
if ladies with low minions wed
I'd gladly carry you to bed,
beneath the rustle of your cape
I long to fussock moan and pape.

Too late milady now to pout
my courtell in will not come out,
your bounty is voluptuous fair,
driven extroven in thy lair.
Oh wondrous tithens she allows
and grambles as her body bows,
beneath the rustle of your cape
I long to fussock moan and pape.
 
They were the brass hats
of the Apocalypse ,
riding in on a buzzsaw of prophecy,
with ginger on their tongues
tasting the pepper of Salvation
and the tall grass flattened before them
bowing in supplication
at the new coming.
 
Could everyone take a moment,
if a moment's all you've got,
search under chairs for my
marbles, I've also lost the plot.
I know I had them yesterday,
they snuck out in the night,
when Himself was snoring ,
I woke with such a fright.
I think the cat made off with them,
or the little men under the bed
for they certainly no longer live here
in the place marked in my head,
So if I my gaze looks vacant
or I mutter "Eh you what?"
it's not old age a creeping ..........
Someone's stolen my plot!!
 
Dug out of a past challenge
.................................

Fondberg's widow couldn't wait
to rid her house
of the grotesque cuckoo clock
some genius painted
carrot orange,
sticking out like a mole
above the bench
where it vied for space
with duck decoys
and a stuffed moose head.
Every hour it burst into incoherent
warbles, the tarnished clasp
flying open revealing some
strange bird, born of warmer climes.
Tossed amongst the detritus
it lay like some ragged fishbone,
swarming with woodworm.
Forgotten was the generosity
of past benefactors,
destined now to the odd
forlorn cuck no oooo
by the back outhouses
a decadent reminder
placed with all solemnity
then deserted
without a backward glance.
 
Her breast soft white,
where she held him nuzzling to suckle
at a nipple erect with longing from
his hardness pressed against her thigh.
Theirs were stolen moments
magnifying a need too strong to forbid,
yet still he teased, his tongue between her lips
and a wandering finger tip entered
her most intimate of places
until her dam swelled, burst
and in a moment's inattention
she threw him on his back,
impaling herself, wanton and wanting.
"Oh my love, my love, heaven must be here
and you are my salvation."
 
Penis Double Acrostic

Perfectly made to fit various sizes
Elongated for pleasure whether Bi,
Nympho, kinky or even just plain
Intercourse. It's fashioned free
Style and always ready to pop.
 
With apologies to Thomas Hardy

Around the bed he chases faster
until at last her qualms are gone,
flees from who would be her Master
around the bed he chases faster.
Wondering if he'll out last her
and if his erection'll last that long.
Around the bed he chases faster
until worn down her qualms are gone.
 
He laid her on his silken sheets
desire in his eyes,
her trepidation turned to lust
his tongue between her thighs.

"Oh Master" cried she, virgin still,
"How do you thrill me so?
"Your tongue tip enters now my butt,
why do you stoop so low?"

But answer none, so wet was she,
he spread her with his dong
and with a shriek her wall was breached
he had no sense of wrong.

She fitted like a velvet glove
each thrust brought forth a moan,
till boiling balls exploded there,
her ass was overthrown.
 
There was a young lady with cred
who had lots of fun in her bed,
then tried slit on her tongue
and from very well hung
took a liking for cunting instead.
 
Randy Rondeau

In noisy rows the swingers lie
to suck and fuck for places vie
with pendulous tits and dangling cocks
they try to prove they're not old crocks,
still worthy spreading of the thigh.

Much use of lube, where now is dry
can still produce a languid sigh
and trying positions unorthodox.
In noisy rows.

Take up the challenge every guy,
for those who need it pass KY,
some feeling kinky now unlock
and fuck her pee hole, what a shock.
Let no-one dare now to decry,
In noisy rows.
 
Do you know me?

I'm the throb in your clit
as you cross your legs,
the twitch in your
pelvic floor muscles
out of nowhere
eliciting a small gasp
wanting more.

I'm the sweet, so sweet
sleeping orgasm,
far more intense than
any waking one, but gone
in a millisecond.

I am your woman.
Your essence of sexuality.
 
I'd like to share something rather nice.
I was talking to my husband
about the little girl who was murdered by her father
and it was a bit of a trigger thing for me
made me go through my childhood trauma again
with him although he's heard it
a million times ........ poor guy!
Anyway after he'd let me rant on for a while
he said "But you're loved now,
three of us love you (two are dogs!)
and I'll never let anyone hurt you ever again."
Made me weepy but nice tears.
 
I saw you as the sun
in an endless blue sky,
until the raindrops fell.

I heard you as a prelude,
but you made no overtures.

I felt you as comfort
on a Winter's day,
but your fire
just flickered and died.
 
She thinks you're wonderful.
very caring.
I feel sorry for her future journey,
to discover
you're really an almighty arsehole,
totally controlling.​
 
In this prison hospital bed
do they not realise that
these drug induced dreams
bring me my freedom?
Together we walk the fields again,
through the seasons of memories
when we two were everything.

One day soon I'll slip beyond
this sleep, and join you once more,
on the other side where dreams
come true and prison bars
no longer cage my wings.
 
As I grow old and memories
slip from my mind like quicksilver,
I still remember you.

Yet your memories are not
the same as mine.
Now you recall events
that I have lost somewhere.

Things that I was so sure about,
now change from your perspective
and all that I was, or thought I was,
is lost.
 
When Grandpa returned
he'd greet us with Bourbon kisses.
He went each Autumn by the carousel
of the seasons, he said, to talk
as the leaves fell, to the only woman
he had ever loved and left
on a mountain high sleeping under
an apple tree as sweet as she.
 
Halloween Glee

Nobody sucks like my succubus,
no-one has that certain flair.
Engulfing with such sumptuousness
in the depths of the night, my affair.

No-one has that certain flair
to raise me from my deepest sleep
in the depth of the night, my affair
will stealthily bedroom creep.

To raise me from my deepest sleep,
from her tender lips, I shall rise,
will stealthily bedroom creep
under a false beauties' disguise.

From her tender lips, I shall rise
engulfing with such sumptuousness,
under a false beauties' disguise,
nobody sucks like my succubus.
 
Last edited:
Thought I'd got this in here but now can't find it it ............ a Cento garnered from Champagne's Survivor poems.

My heart's hunger sated
With wings unfurled on some windy ride
wet my lips with nectared dew
blushed as his, she called him
never wondering what the future held tight.
My companion in the sunbeam,
your warm caress arouses life, such
succulent pillows of pink sugar vulva
but with my love let my heart's hunger sate.
 
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