Snowdrops from a Curate’s Garden

III When Celia farts, my hasty nose Sniffs up the fragrance of her parts. Shamed are the violet and the rose When Celia farts. From churning bowels the vapour starts ; Through pox-gnawed cavities it blows : Out at the anus worn it darts. With rapture stiff my penis glows — Up, up her arse ! Ye half-crown tarts, I care no more to stuff your toes When Celia farts. IV When Celia pisses, I squat low Upon the floor for golden blisses. White wine of love ! My mouth the po. When Celia pisses. The silky stream is hot : it hisses Between the farts that mumble slow Out of the sticky bum. God misses A lot of fun. He doth not know How urine lubricateth kisses. My cock doth stand : my spunk doth flow When Celia pisses. V When Celia tucks, my giant tool Goes in and out with mighty clucks : My work’s cut out, sir, as a rule When Celia fucks. Worn by prolonged attempts on ducks, Weary of goats and boys, I school With rods the unwilling slave : it plucks [129]