Short Wet Dream Poems

"wet dream"


i'm

e eee

cummings...

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Searching for water.
Lost spring at bottom of hill.
Anticipation....

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it felt real
was a lover meal
it was like ice cream
good  itd under stood
was a
WET DREAM...

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you will not be mean
have wet dream
it make you have fun
sex is  a sungun
feeling low than go
get some too
GOOD SEX CAN CHANGE YOU...

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it was like real
i could feel
like a sex meal
turning in my head
it was on the bed
like a movie theme
its hard to forget
was a
SEX WET DREAM...

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i need
to come

is it just
a visit or

can i
stay

pitch my
tent out

in
your

back
yard

for

life is
too short

not to be
lived...

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my mind was in a clover
you were my casnover
it was was a theme
in my sleep
i walk on my feet
my head was turn soul burning
it was mean
i had a 
WET DREAM...

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baby it was so real
like the real deal
you were in my arms
it was alove charm
makeing love was mean
meaning good 
well under stood
itwas just a
WET DREAM...

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it was like this you and kiss
we hug and sug
thur the night
it was passion allright
i woke up
my mind was cuff
it was so mean
to fine out i had a
WET DREAM...

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Split my banana and stuff it with cream
top with tantalizing treats to extreme
	nuts and silky sweetened balls
	gooey toppings form seawalls
nothing left out of a lover's wet dream...

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Smote-a-Mote Wayne can't see the beam
Stuck in his eye blocking his scheme
He thinks throwing mud
Will make him a stud
But its just another wet dream..

* * * * 

Why beholdest thou the mote 
that is in thy brother's eye, 
but considerest not the beam
 that is in thine own eye? ...

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I once dreamt that I still were awake 
Had to pee, my legs started to shake 
My wife, she turned in our bed 
Then wet, she woke up and said
"I dreamt that I fell into a lake" 

By accident, I peed while snoring
Holy crap, my wife, she was roaring 
She kicked me out of the bed 
Peed-off at me...she had said 
"Tonight you're sleeping on the flooring" 


Make Me Laugh Limerick Poetry Contest 
Sponsored by Tania Kitchin 
8-31-2019...

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Night is sleeping
Charmed by the door
The shadow drooped in the day
In the flowering bed
The window of the jungle is crossing 
It's a rhythmic song I've heard somewhere
In the memory of the first day
The rainstorm is looking for a fog in the dark
Sleeping in sleep
The dream came true
At the end of the trunk
I went to another lake
I will go on a day that I do not see yet
There I am singing melodious cymbals in the flowering flask
What are we waiting for?...

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