Home Thoughts on a Broad

Oh, to be in April
Now that Spring is here!
For whoever sleeps with April
Sees, some mornings, underwear
That circumscribes her dainty hips
Yet barely hides her pussy lips.
I yearn to be - some way, somehow -
In April, now!

And after April? Then May follows!
Her white throat’s lovely when she swallows.
If this buxom pair lay in my bed,
Keen and naked underneath the cover,
I wouldn’t keep them waiting. No! Instead,
I’d first take one, and then enjoy the other
(Always assuming that I could recapture
That first, fine, careless rapture).
And then I’d sleep, a girl on either side,
Relaxed and calm and - briefly - satisfied.
But time moves on; by early afternoon
I’d want some more, and slide right into June!

***

And here, in case you don’t know it by heart, is Robert Browning’s version. (Saves you needing to google it.)

Home Thoughts from Abroad (by Robert Browning)

Oh, to be in England
Now that April's there,
And whoever wakes in England
Sees, some morning, unaware,
That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf
Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,
While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough
In England - now!

And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!
Hark, where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge
Leans to the field and scatters on the clover
Blossoms and dewdrops - at the bent spray's edge -
That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,
Lest you should think he never could recapture
The first fine careless rapture!
And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,
All will be gay when noontide wakes anew
The buttercups, the little children's dower
- Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!