Bedtime Story (A bit Naughty)

Bedtime Story (A bit Naughty)



That summer in England was a bit of a lie
Two days in June and three in July
August a joke, September was worse
Even the saintly muttered and cursed
~
Norman, blessed with all money he’d won
From a flea bitten nag at two hundred to one
Escaped from the misery, the murk, and the rain
Took his white knees for a touch up in Spain
~
Dark eyed Senoreta’s, the wine and the Pizza’s
Set his testosterone up, to a dangerous rate
He drowned his ardour in ten pints of lager
Set his sights on acquiring a mate
~
He sussed the nightly dance would be his main chance
Of love, of romance and all he could wangle
On his chest, stuck on hair, his nipples laid bare
Round his neck, a medallion, left to dangle
~
He spotted her there on a bar side chair
His randy heart thumping with passion
Shy and demure full of beckoning allure
Supping brandy, like it was going out of fashion
~
They waltzed and they tangoed
Jived and fandangoed
On leaving she slipped him a note
"Heaven for thee, waits in room twenty three
Don’t worry about brining yer coat"
~
He opened her door at twenty past one
Slipped into the bed to sample some fun
Oh! The shock, humiliation and shame
As she squealed “Hullo pet, what’s your name?
~
“Dear boy what a joy
I’ll slip out of my nightie
Though I’m past eighty three
You’ll find me quite sprightly”
~
Well, we best leave it there
There is no more to tell
But isn’t a voice sighing
“Aw shucks, what the hell”