wind in your hair,sun on your face
ripping along at quite a pace
fields of corn the trees so green
the only witnesses to where you have been
stop for a fag and a cuppa tea
find a bush to have a pee
get out the camera for the moment to catch
and post it up on Biker Match
Farting with style takes practice,Perfection takes time, its a gift,You've first got to learn all the basics,Like pushing one out in a lift.Those silent but violent are classics,With friends it's a really good game,Fart in a crowd at a party,Then watch to see who gets the blame.Now once your technique has been mastered,You'll know what your bottom can do,But ALWAYS remember - don't push too hard,Coz one day you might follow through !!!!
Or;
As I sat on the bog one dayHaving a good old dumpI heard a voice from down belowIt didn't half make me jumpAnd there I spyed a talking turd I thought it rather pottyIt said "I don't want to die" And jumped back up my botty .
Oh did'nt know that Cissy ! here's 2 more verses for *my bike* getting closer to the ocean now with a salt taste in the air...the barren lands behind us , so quite serene and bare...i can feel the damp coolness while nearing the open sea ...the journey's almost ended for my bike the ride and me. lol
on top of old smokey
on the end of a stick
there was a bold eagle scratching his............
dont be mistakened
dont be misled
cause that poor bold eagle
was scratching his HEAD
lol at Geoff , the final verses to *my bike* i found a space beneath the stars to stretch my legs and rest...my bike is cooling off right now , again its passed the test...tomorrow is another day on the road again we'll be..the sun wind and rain upon us , my bike the road and me .Thats it for what its worth lol
For the Ladies
A WOMAN'S POEM:Before I lay me down to sleep,I pray for a man, who's not a creep,One who's handsome, smart and strong.One who loves to listen long,One who thinks before he speaks,One who'll call, not wait for weeks.I pray he's gainfully employed,When I spend his cash, won't be annoyed.Pulls out my chair and opens my door.Massages my back and begs to do more.Oh! Send me a man who'll make love to my mind,Knows what to answer to 'how big is my behind?'I pray that this man will love me to no end,And always be my very best friend.
For the Men !!!
I pray for a deaf-mute gymnast nymphomaniac withhuge boobs who owns a bar on a golf course,and loves to send me riding my bike and fishing. Thisdoesn't rhyme and I don't give a shit.The End.
PAM AYRES
4 those who are old enough to rem.
Has a new poem out
Called: I wish i'd looked after me T..s
Excellent Those lucky enough to have big ones may be able to relate to & enjoy this poem!
The father smiled to see his childCome running to his side."Please tell me, Daddy, what is meantBy that word 'sex'", she cried.
He looked aghast at this sweet girl -She was but eight years old;Too young, he thought and innocentTo break this childhood mould.
She should be playing with her dollsOr other toys she hadInstead of asking questions suchAs this one of her Dad.
With openness and honestyAn inborn family trait,This Dad explained the facts of lifeQuite candidly and straight.
His discourse finished, thankfully,He kissed her on the cheek;No word she'd uttered all the while,But now began to speak:
"I didn't think my question wasA matter so complex,For Mum just said to tell you lunchIs ready in two secs
Remember my father giving me a biology book to read and shut me in the Front poshest ,,,,4 visitors ,,usually,,room.
All because i wanted to go out to play with my friend and a boy....! (Blubbering at mem...aand they had a great time without me... & I was 14!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Still wouldn't let me out at 15 so LEFT HOME!!!!!!!!!
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