A Sonnet in Praise of Solitary Pissers
Hark! What wond’rous muse echoes thro’ pale walls?
Tinkling streams slip murmurs ‘cross yonder vales,
Whistling to world’s end; swift waterfalls,
Sweet liquors flow in glistening amber trails.
From deepest caves concealed in fleshy silks,
Dams break wild in passions wet farewell kiss,
Nature’s purpose; to sprinkle golden milk;
Jewel crusted cunt and curly cock in bliss.
Chosen praise; true athletic aim is bound,
Each crotch in careful urine rhyme resorts
Ripe fruit slashed, juice flows from blessed mound;
On thrones at home, abroad, all fine exotic ports.
A common prayer to vast oceans expanse –
Lonesome pissers assume the holy stance...!
All Rights Reserved & Copyright // David John Drew 'Lord Carville' 2008
