Oct 26 2003

The ritual

(the weekly winding of grandfather/longcase/tallcase clocks)

He sits there each morning, and studies his feet,
nails a bit long, but they’re really quite sweet.
And he just can’t refrain from wriggling his toes,
it’s a wonderful feeling to be without clothes.
And he’s more than proud of his legful of hairs,
he knows plenty of tough guys, who’ve got none on theirs.
Not overly fond of his nobbly type knees,
although they’re not bad, they’re far from the bees.
His pleasure and joy, is the shape of his thigh,
made many a maiden utter a cry.
He’s about to continue, when just as it matters,
there’s a shout from outside, and oh how it shatters.
“If you don’t hurry up lad, you’ll miss the train!!”
So he sighs, wipes his bum, and pulls down the chain.

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