the valley of the forbidden

The Valley of the Forbidden Sat under an oak in the valley of the naked woman admiring her rounded breasts, a malevolent oak took offence, not that I minded, after all, it had been at the same spot for a hundred years, long before the valley had a name. Suddenly, the tree slapped me a leathery branch Oh, pain makes me strong I forgave the oak and thought of the pope who, every Thursday evening  flagellated himself, in remembrance of the day When he was training for the priesthood, he nearly lost  His manhood to the cleaning lady The Valley of the Naked Woman has a hidden fountain is guarded by thorny thistles and impotent apple trees  Those who have drunk her loveliness will never be sane again, loll in the sunlight of lost ambition The wicked eye of the oak kept glaring when I hugged  An olive tree, the oak knew I was a lover of the ethical.