Justine Knolle

Undies on Sunday

They hang there in all shades and sizes.
Bras for secretaries, mistresses, and other gauzy guises.
Frills, thrills, lace and lust.
The larger cups for bigger busts.
More pantyhose than a girl can wear.
Less and less flesh. More and more bare.
And you have come, just for a chat?
You must be joking.
I ain’t buyin’ that!
To be tied up, is what you would like.
I’m sorry Sir, our ropes are all on strike.
Please come back some other day.
Ask for Paula, Gem, Vince or Ray.
They’d be happy to help you then.
Goodbye for now.
Good gracious,
Tuesday 21 March 2006

This poem was written for Bonnie's Dad.

"I see right through ya, Dahlin'!"
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Published on e-Stories.org on 03/22/2006.


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