Whenas in silks my Julia goes...?
It pleased the poet, I suppose,
To versify my furbelows.
No Puritan, or too strait-laced,
I did, though, think it in poor taste
From one who claimed his life was chaste.
It irked me how his eyes would note
What lay 'neath gown and petticoat,
Less godly priest than parish goat!
by Jerome Betts
Whenas in jeans my Julia dances,
My yearning for some hot romance is
A thing her dance-floor flair enhances.
As denim-clad her hips she swings,
The curves to which the fabric clings,
Write hymns my eager bloodstream sings.
Tormented by the flames she's fanned,
I'm out of luck. I understand
She's dating some guy in the band.
by Chris O'Carroll
Read more Parody
Jerome Betts edits Lighten Up Online, the quarterly verse webzine (www.lightenup-online.co.uk) from his Devon (England) fastness or slowness, near, but never on, the sea, and contributes to Light, Snakeskin, The Asses of Parnassus, and other repositories of wit and mirth.
Chris O'Carroll is a Light featured poet and a contributor to The Great American Wise Ass Poetry Anthology and 20 Years at the Cantab Lounge. His poems have appeared in Barefoot Muse, Bumbershoot, Iambs & Trochees, Shot Glass, Snakeskin, Thunder Sandwich, Tilt-a-Whirl, and Unsplendid (no kidding, those are real poetry journal names).