Pins Poem by Mark Curtis

God, forgive me for my sins,
can’t stop thinking of her pins.

long and smooth, two pronged attack,
first time I’d seen this crackerjack.

Muscled curves, no fault in view,
glass slipper, for her would do.

Power oozes, speed, finesse,
should see her in a short cut dress.

If supermarkets sold them pins,
i’d go and purchase all the tins.

Nothing’s close to match her legs,
blow me away like powder kegs.


copyright 2009 Mark Curtis