Here’s a little thingy
About how man loves his lingerie
Here’s a growing third leg
As he begs
Pants
For her skirt
To be lifted
He likes a bit of stocking and suspender
A fishnet defender
For the dying art of hosiery
He’s a growing lad
And he skips the tom boy fads of fashion
They don’t turn him on
Doesn’t flick the switch
Nor scratch the bitch of an itch
Girls in m...

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(Something new for the Erotic Poetry Night at Malton Literature Festival)

“What is the bidding?”

“The bidding is thine” she said.

He spoke and she took position,

Before him, in shadow.

“What is the bidding?”

“The bidding is thine” she said.

He held her hips.

He clicked his tongue softly in her ear,

Before tracing the line of her neck with it.

...

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One I've done for the Erotic Poetry Night of YLF (18-28 March)

Pretty, painted, piggy toes peep shyly through their shoe;

But discreetly I must keep my secret stare from you.

So slyly with more subtlety, a better view to gain,

I turn to your reflection in the window pane.

This private peepshow I enjoy, new thoughts to feel and find

And taste them so indulgent...

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