- Erotic Poetry
- Riding Atop John Donovan
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The fire spat thrice when he awoke
in a fog bottom night, the kind when folk
love to tell tales on All Hallows Eve,
but summer nights with her still seared
and burned in him as she appeared.
“Be dream or ghost, debauchery
is in my deep green eyes,” said she,
"Besides, Dear Heart, I need a good foin"
who lipped his lobe and whispered thus
riding atop John Donovan:
"I beg you find His mercy in life
as foreknown, some friends, and a wife
for comfort and love. No, no, Dear Heart.
You must hear my rhyme. You must hear my rhyme."
And the fog escaped John Donovan's mind.
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