Monday, July 8, 2013


I bus down lane memory
where a fgirl I'm viewing
is seated across from me.
The girl's name is Lyn.
Blonde and beautiful,
a picture of perfection,
I viewed her in my window,
catching her reflection.
She no more takes the bus
and no more do I.
Only the reflective bus
of my memory do I ride.

Owning nothing
and no-one owing,
on freedom's road
he's downward going.
To turn around, upwards climb,
is not for he and his carefree mind.

Moonbelly hopes to produce a bright son.
Her husband wishes for a starry daughter.
Whatsoever the child who comes along,
father-will-have-time, and-of-course-will-mother.

Their day is dawning
while ours now closes.
Here's to the Thai beauties
and to the Thai cuties,
I drink to the-red-and-the-yellow-roses !

The guy was known as a sailor,
and some will say a whaler
when he sat on the jetty
with big-bosomed-Betty.
I'm told he'd get all sweaty
spelling her name with Alphaspaghetti;
whistling with great-delight
when she wore her fishnet-tights.
Betty was a barmaid from The Hops,
where she wore her tarty-tops.
Sailors love a slice of tart.
She warmed the cockles of his heart.
Say her name and see him smart.
Long time at sea, ship into any port !

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