WOODS AND STRINGS

The touch of her mammal gland,
Made the sensation move on to the key-
Of the guitar, he held in his hand
What a beat!

Their warmth and breath
Produced a melodious humming
This prophesised well,
They were cumming

Brown and creamy-
Skin
These were the colours of the wood,
And the strings

The higher the moan,
The higher tone
Of the strings,
On the guitar piece

His firm grip on her,
Silenced the atmosphere
All could hear,
What the guitar said
This time,
It was love

Rock and roll,
On the very cold floor
Fender and Gibson couldn’t resist,
They were into this,
Wood and strings

It’s all sound,
As their hearts as they pound
Honky tonks,
Don’t get me wrong.

B.Y.E.20

JANUARY