50 Shades of John Summers

Submitted by email as “something you might like” – and shared because “they were right”.
Thanks, you-know-who.

I’m not one for jumping on bandwagons, but I did enjoy this short poem and everyone else is doing it, so why can’t we? (Jump on the 50 Shades bandwagon, not… well… you know…)

The missus bought a paperback
down Shepton Mallet way,
I had a look in her bag;
…T’was “Fifty Shades of Grey”.

Well I just left her to it,
…At ten I went to bed.
An hour later she appeared;
The sight filled me with dread…

In her left hand she held a rope;
And in her right a whip!
She threw them down on the floor,
And then began to strip.

Well fifty years or so ago;
I might have had a peek;
But Mabel hasn’t weathered well;
She’s eighty four next week.

Watching Mabel bump and grind;
Could not have been much grimmer.
Things then went from bad to worse;
She toppled off her Zimmer!

She struggled up upon her feet;
A couple minutes later;
She put her teeth back in and said…
I must dominate her!!

Now if you knew our Mabel,
You’d see just why I spluttered,
I’d spent two months in traction
For the last complaint I’d muttered.

She stood there nude, naked like;
Bent forward just a bit…
I thought oh well, what the hell,
and stood on her left tit!

Mabel screamed, her teeth shot out;
My god what had I done!?
She moaned and groaned then shouted out:
“Step on the other one!”

Well readers, I can’t tell no more;
About what occurred that day.
Suffice to say my jet black hair,
Turned Fifty Shades of Grey.

And no, contrary to popular belief, this isn’t by poet Pam Ayres, but it’s very much her style, so I can see where the confusion might arise. It’s actually by a guy called John Summers, of whom I know nothing more.

And now, no more 50 shades of anything on here. Probably.

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