Father Sexy Poems

Honey-Child That Sweet-Spun Gift, You Don't Want To Miss

She cried, "Please write a sonnet that bites my butt"
Dear poet, I give you whiskey, my mouth...

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It was a Swedish film they said,
Mixing real life, truth and art,
A little bit expressive they said,
Which for us was a jolly good start
And when...

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L have given all that
I have to give
And if you 
don't want to
I don't know
Who will
Tell me
Why .............
Miss the same
Love that
Made mi laugh
Make me cry?
Ah...

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Since I can't say the words that I want to use
We r going to have a little fun and light the fuse
I don't give 2...

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Cycles
by Michael R. Burch

I see his eyes caress my daughter's breasts
through her thin cotton dress,
and how an indiscreet strap of her white bra
holds his bald...

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is a dusty rippled salt shaker,
an old working girl
found busy or on a stroll,
in a brothel house
my grandmother said
was often around,
when people sold
what they could...

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which words speak me as your's
might your imagination
make you think of me as 
someone who loves you in resipitation
I speak of you as friend
but then...

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My father,
who tolerated no fat,
predicted I would do nothing right
or good,
much less healthy,
in my lifetime.

My mother,
absorbing nothing too mean or lean,
felt I could do nothing...

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IF YOU PULL A LONG FACE - Part IV

IF you pull a long face
Just because no one will you lay
Never you mind the disgrace
Every body's...

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My dad was renown as a cad
Which made my love life rather sad
Would I know when I kissed her
That she was my sister?
If not, he...

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since the grim reaper stole me mum
   words my recourse to express
   how fateful symbiosis
   ma pop got snagged...

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She calls me God and damns me nightly
As we exchange deep sighs and moans
I'm the father of Orgasms and Creations
The moans of a beastly release
She's...

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Perhaps in another i.e. alternate world, this middled aged (baby boomer bona fide bra burner) of two well nigh near grown daughters felt caught in...

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For Ian Diddams and my Dad

So what’s the crack with rugby?
My father used to play
He’d come home with an injury
Every other day
My mother used to...

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Sixteen years difference, 
a good friend's daughter to boot; 
this woman gouged deep with her husky tones,  
her easy laughter 
and comfortable manner. ...

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