Roses are red
And Rob you are right
I was left out of the pile
Not a pretty sight
But it's okay
I refuse to pout
A second pile?
With your plan I have doubt
Including one guy
Doesn't work for me
But I appreciate the thought
and I'll let it be
I'll start my own pile
But for only those invited
Whether Bi or Les
Guaranteed to be delighted
Please don't be offended
Don't take it to heart
I really do like you
We just got off to a bad start
So the invites will come soon
Let the sex games begin
Sans Rob of course
I won't let you in
Roses are red
What more need be said
Lynn puts me in a corner
On a medieval bed.
I watch as she eagerly
Unboxes a shipment
Of the dernier cri
In sexual equipment
One pocket rocket,
A wand and a rabbit,
A Hitachi contraption
To use out of habit.
Anal beads, next, with
The instructions I wrote her
"Imagine you're starting
An outboard motor"
And as per the word
Of her health-care advisor
A mixture of lube
And hand-sanitizer.
The doorbell rings
Is this her first guest
Some hot one-on-one
Before the arrival of the rest
Anticipation
Make Lynnwitt quivery
But it's just the van guy
With another delivery
By now it is clear
With a pandemic running
Common sense took over
The other girls are not coming.
I watch Lynn from my mattress
Glumly unwrapping
Toys for an orgy
That won't be happening
"Calling LynnWitt
Party of one!"
Regretting my comment
Once I'd begun.
For now each new item
The FedEx man brought
Tells me Lynn is more 'out there'
Than I'd previously thought.
A strapon and harness
A plastic ball-gag
Blindfold and cuffs
Throw up a red flag
And since we're alone
It's my turn to be glum
When Lynn slips that harness
Up over her bum....
Roses are red
I can't imagine this
Forum at all
Without that little Miss
That's Heidi, of course
Who's delightful all 'round
And brings a sparkle
To these verses' sound
Now, about that bottom
I wonder just who
Had such a tryst-
You whippersnapper, you!
Roses are red
I have a mandolin
To use when cooking
Things I want thin.
It's the devil's contraption.
Satan's spawn.
In its malevolent games
I am merely a pawn.
I bought some potatoes
More than we need
It was a rash purchase
I have to concede.
This has been, so far,
My only foray
Into panic buying
So prevalent today.
There are hoarders out there
Worse than me, no doubt,
But sanitizer caches
Don't tend to sprout.
So the pressure is on
To use all these taters
Before taking a loss
Like T.P. speculators.
We've had them mashed
I've made fries and knishes
And potato croquettes
And some other dishes.
In an attempt
To vary our diet
I found a gratin recipe
And decided to try it.
It needs thin slices
This is where we came in...
Using that bastard
Assassin mandolin.
In the three years I've had it
I've used it five times
Then locked it back up
For its murderous crimes.
Down in the cupboard
It lies in wait
Hatching its plans
For my fingers' fate.
I'm not cavalier
I'm cautious and slow
And still this fucker
Is Five and O.
I use the handle
To hold what I'm slicing
And yet every time
I'm skin sacrificing.
That blade is so sharp
It uses stealth
To gradually sap
My remaining health.
I don't even notice
Until espying, with dread,
My dinner prep
Is turning red.
It got me again.
So easy to predict.
If I killed its inventor
No jury would convict.
It must be French
Launching this attack
One finger at a time
They'll take Louisiana back.
And them froggies have form:
When it comes to sharp cutters
There's nobody better
Those Guillotine nutters.
It sits on the counter
A homicidal smart alec
While I'm furiously cursing
Everything Gallic.
While raging and ranting
With fingertip pruned
Under the cold tap
Goes my mortal wound.
Pink flows the water
Down the drain
My essential essence
Alas! I am slain!
A little pressure
Staunches the flood
And kitchen towel
Catches the blood.
Things looking up
With bleeding's cessation
No longer at risk
Of exsanguination.
I have a bandaid nearby.
Before you begin
You need to anticipate
A fiendish mandolin.
Now, returned to the cupboard
Pushed to the back
My mandolin plots
Its next diabolical attack.
When the scars fade
And I've forgotten the pain
Foolish me
Will probably use it again.
Roses are red
Poor Rob's been hurt
Mean old mandolin
Causing blood to spurt
Perhaps he should
When preparing "Good Eats"
Bypass the potatoes
And just stick to beets!
Now I have to say
That I've also a scar
My mandolin resulted
In a trip to the ER
Now back to playtime
With the ladies pile, fair
Which does raise a question
About pubic hair
I've a landing strip
But otherwise bare
So what have you?
Would you like to share?
Roses are red
I keep mine bare
Playing in here
Would make sticky hair
I like them all
Hairy or bald
I lick without bounds
As I make sloppy sounds
Roses are red
Here my cry
Want to go out
And touch the sky
After flying home
I have to isolate
I sit here bored
Unable to date
Yet I think about
First time we met
My desire
You did whet
Our lips met
Our first kiss
A magical moment
Was sheer bliss
But reality returns
I’m down this hole
But never lose
My gypsy soul
Will be over soon?
Or take some time
Perhaps it is just
The new paradigm
Roses are red
Groups of five
We're restricted to
We girls will survive
Form a circle
Sexy and sweet
Tasting your pussy
A delicious treat
Lynn touches my rear
A gentle squeeze
Look into her eyes
"Yes please"
Roses are red
I like them a lot
Social distancing in here?
I'll say,"I think not"
The blindfolded pile
Is what I think we will play
No names to be mentioned
Just begin the soiree
With whom am I next to
My how exciting she is getting
I feel the wetness
A good partner, I'm betting
And whose lips are kissing me
so sweet and so deep
A luscious kisser like that
Is one that I'll keep
This pile should grow
As more dive in
As we all are so caring
It's a definite win win
Roses are red
Ashley's game will be fun
Guessing who we're petting
As we've just begun
Then switching about
And trying again
The writhing pile
In our sexual den
Shrieks of delight
Mixed with moans of deep lust
Accompany licks
And deep finger thrusts
Methinks we'll enjoy
This cotillion of elation
And continue it long
With no thought of cessation
Roses are red
and I haven't a clue
for if i get out of bed
what should I do?
Roses are red
I'm out in Heidi's hall
There's a pile of clothes
And they aren't size small
A 62 waist?
I must be reading that wrong.
And the jacket label
Reads fifty-eight long.
Woah... size 14 shoes
That's some scary-ass feet
And this pair of panties
Are far from petite.
In my mind I saw Hedi
A sylphlike goddess
Prancing in naught
But an overtight bodice
This sartorial evidence
Puts it in doubt.
My image now: a heifer
Galumphing about.
But this is Heidi
So no matter the size
My ambition remains:
My face between her thighs.
Roses are red
Rob's ambition's high
Alas, I'm sure
It'll end with a sigh
But, fear not
Some other lend
"Support for his cause"
And over to bend
Presenting a target
For him to apply..
Wait just a minute!
It's another guy!
Roses are red
You defend me very well
But they were not my cloths
I washed them to sell
I work at The Good Will
One day a week
Those was some cloths
Left by transient sheik
Roses are red
Another week commences
Still distancing in person
Will we lose our senses?
Perhaps not at all
With our zany crew here
We'll chat and we'll laugh
And pinch a sweet rear
Roses are red
I gave Lynn a pinch
That wily wench
Didn't even flinch
Try something else
I gave her a goose
Still no reaction
Ahh what's the use?
Giving her nipple
A gentle tweak
Did not evoke
The response I seek
My hand in her panties
Cupping her mound
My seed still falling
On stony ground
All I can say
Is she never said 'no'
So, what the heck...
Let's give it a go...
Off with her knickers
I bury my sword
Yet by sly LynnWitt
I'm still being ignored
That's the problem
With a virtual fuck
If your partner's off line
You're shit out of luck.
Roses are red
Rob gives it a wank
Thinking of Lynn
He deserves a spank
I think of Lynn
As I lay in bed
Nipples stiff
And legs spread
She slides on top
Breasts together pressed
My growing sexual need
Will soon be addressed
We share a kiss
My nipples stiff
Our sexual scent
I get a whiff
Sliding lower
I feel her touch
The feeling so magical
The sheets I clutch
The touch of her tongue
Her breath on my lips
Into my pussy
Her finger slips
All of a sudden
I wake from my dream
It's my own fingers
Covered in my cream
Roses are red
Laying with Lynn
I slowly caress
Her soft skin
My head on her shoulder
My leg over hers
Teasing her nipples
My desire stirs
A sensual kiss
My growing desire
Between my legs
I’m on fire
Kiss her neck
And down her chest
I'm anticipating
The curve of her breast
Kiss her nipple
Suck and tease
Feel it stiffen
My desire to please
Roll her over
Spread her arms to the side
Over her back
My breasts slide
My thighs pressed
Against her bum
My heart beating
Like a drum
Kiss down her back
Her skin so smooth
Her building desire
I will soothe
Kiss each cheek
My fingers find
Her wet lips
Softly outlined
My tongue slides
Down the “V”
Between her cheeks
I hear her plea
Roll over again
Legs over my shoulder
My advances become
So much bolder
Kiss and suck
Her soft wet lips
Deep into her wetness
My finger slips
Adding another
Slide in and out
Wanting to hear
My lover shout
Curl my fingers
A little rub
I suck and tease
Her engorged nub
Lynn’s breathing quickens
She squeezes her tits
I tease her clit
And taste her spritz
At that moment
Lynn reaches the peak
As she cums
I hear her shriek
She grabs my hair
And pulls me close
An intense orgasm
Curls her toes
We lay together
Share a kiss
Holding each other
In sexual bliss
Roses are red
In the afterglow
Paige and I
Caress very slow
Fingers carry scents
Of recent passion
Which, soon enough
We will refashion
For now, drift softly
On the echos of pleasure
While thoughts toward the next
Continue without measure
Skin soft slides together
As legs entwine
Breasts press tightly
Shivers down the spine
Long, lingering kisses
As hands won't be still
The stage is now set
For another lustful thrill
Roses are red
This thing ain't abating
All you can do
Is keep isolating
It's probably harder
For outgoing types.
From this curmudgeon
You won't hear gripes.
Some humans are nice
I've seen them about.
But people are assholes
If you average them out.
Their dogs foul the footpaths
They cut in line
They get road rage and fight
They believe in hydroxychloroquine.
They worry too much
About their looks
And proudly declaim
That they never read books
They cheat on their taxes
And then they complain
The local school budget
Has been cut back again.
In family restaurants
The get loud and cuss.
They never say 'thank you'
They fart on the bus.
They talk in the movies
They judge perfect strangers
They come from Boston
And hate the New York Rangers
They bend your ear
About some faddish detox
They get their news
From Fox
They fly tip old mattresses
On quiet country lanes
Then feel 'disrespected'
When someone complains
Of further examples
There is a wealth
Each of these verses
Is writing itself.
Suffice to say
Don't sneer and don't scoff
There's no shortage of people
That piss me off
Can we convince them
To stay tightly locked down
And forget to inform them
Once a cure has been found?
Roses are red
There's no scarcity
Of idiotic people
Who act churlishly
I try to contain
My ire at that rump
With his sign
I <heart> T....p
Now a Dem I'm not
Nor a Rep, by far
That they stay in power
Is just plain bizarre
Too many, I fear
Think of themselves solely
The problem is
They think themselves holy
Now, away from this mire
Of musings distressing
And back to rampant sex
- I'm already undressing!