Do gray women blush,
when they’re feeling blue
getting a great rush
for a man who’s new?
Do they ever get,
to their extreme surprise,
suddenly most wet
when they see the size
of the man who made them
blush? The answer’s yes.
I know, because I’ve laid them.
Who are they? You must guess.
Inspired by a sexy dream I had last night, and by comments Roger Scruton makes about blushing in Sexual Desire: A Philosophical Investigation.
This was Linda’s response:
Hair Today, Gone Tomorrow
Grey is the color of cloudy skies
and they can turn black, angry,
white the color round my eyes
and red after a sangri,
but though some rinse like heaven to blue
and purple on occasions,
I'm earthbound, brown, rich soil, a hue
most lustful in persuasions.
Yet grey, red, black, brown, purple, blue
all crown a head with features
like cheeks that blanche when love's not true
or blush at lustful creatures
who like a snake with tasty fruit
ensnare the dormouse lingering
within it's cosy cave tree root
aroused by brilliant fingering!
8/18/08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This does sound like a dream...and a wish. My word! Raynette