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"Ghastly Rich Adventures!" (N'er a Kilt!) 
 
For thy wish
upon high mount from wherest thou stand stout!
Merry, merry ladies toil and treasure thy jewels when o'er a gift appear about thy woven knit
n'er a kilt
yet golden virtues only chosen
two clothes a roping for thy depart before within before Hand-
a stench of ole' time thunder ye about thy bed post going before to marvel
an air, a beaut, a calm, un-suit..suited her that thy expel amidst a gaze-yea, a gloat
Reap n'er again my heart for thee but failesth from blunder!
for all thy damsels torment oft thee captive once asunder
N'er shall a day- morrow die lest feet fail!!
Ladies size 12, black and metal buckled and narrow toe ye hung from 10 penny nails for thy 
velvet dame?Ay, ay Captain! Anchors Thyself Aawwway!
Pressured, the gent, the bloke next door now offers to bump- a priding manner, a more 
pleasured thought of nib- considered I (n'er thine!)
Foolish men less than thou (sayesth the early morn hour) had once lay gaiety adored upon 
my bossum, a passing fancy of passions past with bourbon bib!!!
Less than kindly fluency, less than worldly gestures, yet pretentious so- that thy hand upon 
thy rodding influence, fast and stead..my words only amid! asketh yea, "I upon thee,....Only 
I!"
for my name impress thou to vow love?
Bewildered yet.....
I shall not, shall n'er die from jestly gestures!
N'er shall thou touching aromas, my lingers, my warmest thighs, n'er!
Couth of thy fancied golden sash and I are not the same-
for thy fire(nay, just in colour) a lustly blue flame disguised amid thy beneign white frame in 
scarlet and pink hues
 
Sweeling chest
yet a gentlman's guest?!
Thy forged on- of secrets to her widow
with wife so tame to thy affection yet!
 
Thin hair, noble colour, prestine skin of yellow...
behind-crimson cheeks (far aglow below a sultry stature), noble night before her bent-
 "Stars upon thee sky ah" thy wayward claim to fame~
"Indeed she did not pride herself!!!!"
"Sir, ye think all has agreed to be liars with the lady blazing glory?"
"Please, no, n'er I, n'er I to such a fellow"
To thy well rounded esteem? Think not ye hath not loud sounding calls afar and amid when 
fast asleep?!!! Beside, a fatal gust and gast despaireth thy lady fairs hair to part ways!
Fairest maiden? o'er and o'er turn she "Lady Snookems" thy guest a night, then a score ~ 
continued
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