Who will buy my lovely oranges
I am a whore in the bed of Charles II
Nell Gwynn is my name from Hereford I come
Beauty I have money have none.
Acting is my forte yet I must wait my turn
The stage is a busy place, I first must earn
The right to be classed as a star
Not just a bed warmer Charles II whore
I cross dress at times to see how it's done,
this art of beguiling both sexes, thought as a skill
Yet a diva I will become after birthing a son
Another one for Charles to show off at will
Three babies I gave him yet all the time
My stage work continued, couldn't stop,
Illness I can't have, would end my fame
Losing my pecking order topple from the top
Many women share his bed, marries just one
Would rather be footloose care for my son
Than be a wife of a philandering man.
To know I can up and go whenever I want.
Will you buy my lovely oranges, says Nell in loud voice
Revealing her bosoms,you don't have a choice
But stare and think many thoughts of a man
being teased by more than the oranges held in my hand.
penned 24/06/2014
True person
Categories:
nell gwynn, fruit, sexy,
Form: Rhyme