Talk to me

I am an Aberrant Knight
seeking subtle fulfilment

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I write

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Friday, April 10, 2015

cream



step
with me into this picture

the sun
shines down for it is
the middle day of the year
it is early morning
and the meadows
are glistening with dew

warm and wet

I’m out walking
just to taste the day

there you are

sitting on a mossy bank
dressed in white muslin
bound round with
a cream laced bodice
but
the laces are untied
and
the top of your dress
falls a little open
revealing
just a glimpse of your chest
and the round pillows
of  your firm breasts
they are damp
shining with perspiration

your hair clings to your
forehead under your lace cap

your knees are raised
and you have pulled
your skirts up onto
your thighs
to allow a little breeze
to flourish
and refresh
your
lower
portions

you are
shall we say
hot

beside you
on the ground
stand two pails
and a wooden shoulder yolk
that you have been
carrying along the
dusty road

Fair maid, I say
what is in your pair of pails?

Cream, sir,
rich and thick
I’m taking it to market
before the day gets too hot
and it spoils -
but it does weigh so
and I am just a-resting
of my bones
for it is a warm day though
it be still early
and my legs are sore from walking.

May I taste some?

Taste some?
Taste some, indeed?
Why the very cheek of it, sir.
How is a poor girl to earn a crust
if she gives away her precious cream
to every
handsome young Dick
who should stray
across her path

My name is not Dick
I say

That’s as may be
but Dick is as Dick does
if you ask me.

I’ll pay you for your cream
it looks rich and delicious

‘Tis indeed the finest
in the whole county
from Buttercup
the finest of cows
this side of London

What can I give you for it?

Well, sir, now let me think
You being a
fine gentleman and all
I think you should
pay handsomely
for my cream,
don’t you?

I’ll pay a fair price,
my pretty fair maid.

Well, sir
I’m partial to
a little cream
myself
if you understand me
and if you
understand
me
then I would ask you to
under-stand me over
in yon flower meadow
I have a flower
that could do with
plucking

I think I do
you saucy maid
indeed I think I do
and
a little of my cream
for a little of yours
would seem a fair exchange to me
let us go and
seal our deal
before all your
cream turns to cheese
you will find mine
fresh and flavourful

And so you stand
and bounce over toward me
and seize my hand
and you and I retire
to the privacy of the
flower meadow

and in less time than it takes
to swat away a summer fly
you have unlaced you bodice
and are resting
my two strong hands
upon your
two fine breasts

and then
quicker than
a sparrow flits
your nimble hands
are unbuttoning my fly
and reaching right
in to test my understanding

You seem to understand me very well
 my fine upstanding sir

and in less time than it takes
to jump off a wall
you have pushed me down onto
my back
and jumped yourself up onto
my barber's pole
and you’re riding my cockhorse
all the way to Banbury Cross

your skirts are
flapping all around us
and your fiery flower
is sliding up and down on my
meaty staff
and all the rings and bells
on your fingers and toes
are jingling
and
believe me
my cream is
very close churning

and just at that point
when all our wrestling
and jostling
is about to settle itself
into a boisterous
hurrah
you bounce yourself
right off me and
skidaddle your way
backwards
down to my knees
so that with one lunge forward
you can clap your mouth
around my
jolly roger
and sup all
my curds and whey
as they come guzzling
forth from the shiny pink spigot

straight into your
pretty hot mouth
I come cantering
and you
lap
lap
lap
and sup
sup
sup
like a clever little pussy
your tongue licking
all around my bedevilment

a quick wipe of your face
with the back of your hand
and then you come flouncing
down on top
of me
and smothering
my mouth with your
tasty
still sticky
lips

That was a quick report
you say
laughing at me
but thank you
kind sir
for my creamy breakfast

and up you get
and over to your pails
and you dip a scoop
into one of them
and bring it over
and pour it all over
my flushing face

and the cream
flows over
my mouth and nose
and I cough and I splutter

while you,
little miss muffet,
go laughing off
leaving me to find a stream
to wash my face
before I turn to
cottage cheese.