PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

It was found part’ an answer to behold,

And part’ more than the demand asked.

But in the raffish way it was extolled,

Left us smiling, eyes shut, in the dark.

The girl of question had been offering beer,

Which we had most cautiously drunk,

As we were all good friends, non-queer,

And found to the frauline only one bunk.

But it was Arnold who had noted ‘loud,

A comment to hiself alone we thought,

That spilled clearly like the amber flow-ed,

To the blonde in boots that did spread about.

That a sight like hers may well look better,

If she was to remove, those boots of leather.



She offered first, in a quiet allay,

That to remove her boots she must first get beers,

For all the lads were drinking with a fray,

And she did not want their thirst to be in arrears.

As if she was to take the stompers off,

It would need the help of at least three men,

One to hold her gently from the top,

Whilst the other two pulled from the other end.

For it seemed there’d been little sleep last night,

With her alter-friends that she had kept,

Because in entertaining ‘til dawn’s sweet light,

She was touched to chaps by hide so wet.

And now the boot hide gripped her well,

So three men it took and to this I tell.



It was Charlie who then yelled lets do it!

As the hostess blonde whose name was Collette,

Said alright fellows if you think you can crew it,

I’ll just lay between you all, upon my bed.

So I got up the top to hold her steady,

While at the end the boys grabbed firm her boots,

I said Collette my dear are sure you’re ready?

Coz these cobbers are sure to work you loose!

And Collie grinned and took a quick breath,

Gripped sheets and arched, with curve, her back,

As we prepared to pull hard to our death,

To free her of this hide that did hold her chaps.

And I counted us in with a slow eins, vie, drie.

And boot muster was on until she would sigh.



I had locked my arms about her shoulders,

And clenched my fingers together on her chest,

With her fair headed locks draped boldy,

Upon my loin which did not need ‘be pressed.

The Lads had the look of determined men,

Strained with the thirst of fifty summers,

As her breathing it deepened again and again,

Not thinking of wood, but we were quite lumbered.

As the lads kept straining and I asked how she goes,

She panted between breaths that she was fine,

And Arnie said to Colette, to wriggle her toes,

Said she, “Imagine fish-nets and a mini divine!”

With coughs, splutters and groans of altered men,

To a vigorous intent we then did descend.



Well, Charlie while holding onto the boot,

Reached with the other arm, the marg’ on the table,

The lid went flying, bouncing off my front tooth,

And Arnold began looking a might unstable.

But Charles was to be on the right track,

As he slapped the lard on the top of them booth,

The heat of the exertion turned it lubricant black,

That slewed into the boots that were stuck like glue.

But Arnold’s comprehension then returned,

As the heel it levered a moment loose,

As I realised that this at what we yearned,

Only the frailty of sanity did it right’ prove.

Tumbling over with boots Arnold and Charles,

Too I, with Collette, as us all on our arse’.



Collette gave out a loud sigh and a scream of delight,

Saying, “Thank-you boys for helping me out,”

As we all looked relieved and a hilarious sight,

We laughed so hard we began rolling about.

As Arnold grabbed the boots and said to Collette,

“That if ever you need a hand to get ‘em off,

That it is the three lads you won’t forget,

That gave a damn and will give a toss,

And struggle hard to meet their demands,

That be gentle but firm and stay at the top,

And have ready, willing and helping hands,

Which are able to pull absolutely anything off.”

With that he clasped them close to his chest,

Saying, “Just mention a mini and a pair of fish-nets.”



©R.H.Elliott 2003