Let The Lady Loose

Let the Lady loose

Your goose is cooked

Life will never be

 The same,

Her palm wrapped

Around your throttle

Fingers on your keyboard

Some may think you’ve

Gone insane,

But you know that

It’s not madness

For you’ve seen her

In her nakedness

In the night

With nothing on,

And she rode you

On her carpet

Undulating wildly

Though the darkness

Past the rain.

Stephen Nesbitt ©