The bosom of the girl I love,
Is an ordinance survey map,
My hands explore the contours,
When she's sitting on my lap,
Her nipples rise like little peaks,
Upon a flowing land,
They rise and fall depending on
The movement of my hand;
Her bottom is a feature,
I must confess I like,
And when she's naked on the lawn,
It's a place to park my bike.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The movement of my hand; Her bottom is a feature, I must confess I like, And when she's naked on the lawn, It's a place to park my bike. such a romantic poem. tony