- Erotic Poetry
- Ripe for the picking
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Snow White was such a comely lass
With bosoms filling her chemise
Ripe for the picking, but alas
Come hither looks were just a tease
No man allowed to pluck at these
For only she would cup the blooms
Allowing not a playful squeeze.
A raging passion now consumes
Through the shades a lover looms
Not one at all now there are seven
Climb o'er the sill into her rooms
Each capable to bring her heaven.
For just one man is not enough
But seven small can give it rough.
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