- Non-Erotic Poetry
- Time is
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Laughing before the Sun
came down
whistling before the crows
struggled home
the tavern-girl serves
the last of the madeira,
Tinkling bells soft sashaying silks
swirls of colour, and
hues of laughter
from the upper levels
Waylay that Man
string Him up belay Him
I think Torquemada was
such an accomplished liar
Are all cruel Ones the same
It won't hurt much,
I promise you at first
Now many hear
that refrain
many revel in
their druthers
All come flocking and stay to feel
Time was the cries resounded
Time was the moans pealed off the walls
Time was those whimpers rankled
To come and take and taste
Time was
now Time is ,
He walks down the hall
Time is, those mewls, whimpers and cries
ignite his ardour
sound only for His ears
Time is
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