My auntie, who was on vacation
Was lusting for fast fornication
She met a well-hung guy
But her foo-foo’s too dry
She blurted, “It needs lubrication!”
The fella, whose first name was Dick
Said, “Stay put. I’ll be back real quick
I’ll purchase sticky Jell-O
‘Twill turn your foof bright yellow
But ensures my entry is slick!"
The Jell-O lube worked really well
Dick satisfied my Auntie Mel
Next time she needs some lube
She’ll melt a Jell-O cube
Aunt’s shagged out. I think you can tell!
BYE ERN
There once was a man from Bavaria
Whose actions could not be scarier
In the woods where he lurked
And at night where he worked
It was designated as a no-go area
But at heart he was a secretive guy
Of ill repute, but couldn’t see why
All those songs that were sung
About him being well hung
From a tree in the woods so high
A girl on the tip of my tongue
Wants to swing while she is still young
She went on Facebook
The lads had a look
And now its her phone that's well hung
My auntie’s a consummate flirt
and always wears a mini skirt
Uncle sees her toned thighs
and quickly gets a rise
It’s early to bed says old Bert
He deftly removes her silk stocking
And quickly their headboard is knocking
Much to their neighbours chagrin
The party wall’s very thin
Their bedroom antics he finds shocking
Dear Auntie Eth’s ninety years young
(And Uncle Bert’s very well hung)
They’re old, but not wrecks
They adore having sex
Both glad their mattress is well sprung
07/31/21
In Washington Joe Biden's all the buzz
Voters are amazed at what the man does
He stays awake every day
Yet doesn't plan what to say
Spending trillions ~ Words just get in the way
Kamala Harris is singing her song
That open borders can never be wrong
She went to El Paso
But forgot her lasso
Got egg on her face, not even well-hung
Morose now, Donald Trump sits and he plots
At Mar-a-Lago, his guests drunk on scotch
Trump's out of his element
No longer an elephant
Melania's gone ~ Who's scratching his crotch?
Nancy Pelosi's waiting in the wings
To do lots of 'social democrat' things
But first she'll ask AOC
If it is OK to be
Our new President at age ninety-three
Olympic athletes performed nude
(Spectators back then cheered the lewd)
The judges (we're told)
Used layers of gold
To honour the most well-hung dude
BASED ON A VERY OLD JOKE
Two widows sunbathed on a beach
A nudist walks past hear them screech
He’s a well hung bloke
Old Maud has a stroke
but sadly her friend cannot reach
NB Sex on the beach is a cocktail
06/06/21
A lady who loves oral sex
Took to bed 3 cowboys named, "Tex"
One was well-hung
One for his tongue
And the third for his Rolodex
eye to telescope all night long,
she looks for the Goldilocks zone,
her young new husband six foot strong,
desires her soft flesh on her bone!
married in love just few weeks back,
astronomy gets attention,
muscular torso full six pack,
from her gets no passing mention!
passions are different when young,
for her extra terrestrial,
being male hormones flushed, well hung,
his plans more territorial!
late one night exhausted from her search
she said “ you know Goldilocks zone?”
“Not G zone”! he said from his perch,
“can show you G spot when alone!”
Thanks to the weather in England,
cloudy nights came to his rescue,
he shows her stars now with his wand,
she is in Goldilocks zone new!
Written 18/March/2021
Goldilocks zone poetry competition
Anthony Biaanco sponsored
8 syllables each line 5 quatrains!
If I were straight as an arrow, or gay
as a songbird; then I'd consume the time,
exhaust “carpe diem,”—and thus seize the day!
For life's too short; and youth's brief paradigm,
like the spring season, is much more fleeting
than young love (a fact that's best left unknown).
So, you see that I'm not above cheating
fate: growing old and wise is overblown.
Just as wisdom is wasted on the old,
so is youth and love wasted on the young
(as they say): so, if being gray is like gold
in one's twilight years, then my cock's well-hung!
For what's there more to say? Life's just too hard
and short: so make much of its brief reward.
Americans come by the clock
A British lass just hikes her frock
The French love a tongue
The Swedes like well-hung
But Left or Right Thai knows Bangkok!
When I come back I will be a warhorse
Twenty one hands high
I will ignore my mistress, taking no direction.
I will run toward the valley
Where I will be free with no bridle or saddle
Thundering through, amazing other creatures.
My coat of many colors will dazzle the mares.
I will be a stallion
Well hung, and proud
Unless I choose to be Irish-setter red.
Irish setter red might be the best.
Then I could blend in with autumn and the fire sky.
My name will be Beauty Thunder
I will be followed by magnificent faeries
And sneaky, mean elves will despise me,
Putting raisins in my oat bucket.
Yes, I will return to my mistress's stable in the evening
To have a formidable bucket of oats.
I am not a hillbilly after all.
And I love running water,
I will win the Triple Crown twice,
Showing up all the other horses.
Yet with no training at all.
None can break me.
For I break myself,
Always in charge
Even as a warhorse.
Les Dewett was a gigilo
Who loved to do it really slow
Though he was well hung
The tip of his tongue
Won their praises for Best of Show
It’s A Stitch Up
I struck a match and the gas cooker did me
So a chap called Sidney gave me a kidney
I didn’t steal it and I didn’t beg
But a fellow called Clegg gave me a leg
My best mate Paul gave his left eyeball
But my uncle Jock gave nothing at all
Thanks to Steve there’s an arm up my sleeve
And the fact I can breath is hard to believe
But the praises I’ve sung cos Burt gave me a lung
Fall short of Fred Young who made me well hung
And so I thank Fred for my prowess in bed
But if it wasn’t for Ted, I’d still have no head
When I walk again I hope I will meet
The geezer next door who gave me his feet
Nobody knows who gave me my nose
But a guy up my street gave me all of his toes
Old Bobby Tutt gave me his gut
The rider from Pizza Hut gave me his butt
But how can I ever thank young Tommy Green
Who gave me his heart and his liver and spleen
But it seems all those people I never shall greet
For when the gas blew, it blew up the street.
In spite of my very simple upbringing
Carved a good life while dancing and singing
Better than some
Not famous but well hung
Hung up on laughter and gaiety brimming
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