- Erotic Poetry
- Ode to S
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Ode to S
Erato, descend from thy cloud-veiled Parnass,
and hark at the story of one little lass,
brought up in a home of refinement and flair
where punishment wrought on her sweet derriere
did wonders for posture, French grammar and more,
although it did leave her a little bit sore
The cane that her uncle most favored was oak,
in hardness but rivaled by one ‘neath his cloak
that, after most sessions, resembled a tent
When, after his passions and sermons were spent,
the matron would offer to tend to her bruises,
which meant an anointment with natural juices
So once more she’d bare what by now was quite tender,
for auntie’s slim hands and their deftness to lend her
the means to delivery as if from hell,
a thing that her relative did rather well
So well that our girl felt - a posteriori -
like sinning again – but that’s not this story.
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