There he goes again
There was a man, in times of yore,
who walked with burley gait,
His fashioned arms,
swang too and fro,
A stride clans would debate.

His mighty march, would fill the sails,
of all who saw him canter,
his tongue was quick,
to fill the air,
with mirth, folley and banter.

He wandered forth, unto the hills,
in naught but socks and cheer,
the wenches he happened upon,
would grin from ear to ear.

His beard was stout, his eyes were true,
barrel chested, honest stock,
for many reasons none could mock,
you'd hear a titter "what a cock!"

It's girth matched only by it's size,
its merry eye would hypnotise,
the hoards the thing could mesmorise!
it slapped and chaffed upon his thighs.

His name by chance was Brian Blessed,
his terrible groin was a mass of writhing bore worm,


oh, "get RICH quick!" i thought you said "worrying poems about brian blessed".
(jindodsdadsdogsdead I am not stusut79, Wed 6 Aug 2008, 16:43, Reply)