Wetlands

An ingenious man from Blackheath Who rode his luck from up and beneath Once had been a boy scout Never once left home without But when he checked found a hole in the sheath He though had prepared for bad luck Velvet sheets beckoned a tuck Retrieved some bicycle lube While he sat on the tube Pouched his wet lips for a repair suck Because of sensual addiction And to enjoy coming friction Chose from puncture repair kit To mend the small condom split Afraid of his lover’s eviction To circumvent premature detection Not to eschew passionate affection He put the patch on the inside Small draw back for delight No chance now for any defection But when crescendo’s climax had ceased And his virile manhood had eased Emery powdered paper Had turned into a scraper Unsurprisingly he was not too pleased 20th May 2020