The Opposition Member

Thursday, 23 April 2009 22:03

For those of us who seldom lay,
And even some who do,
Some like to sleep, some like to play,
And some combine the two.

You won’t be nicked amusement tax
On either of these vices.
So grab a mag, lie down, relax
You’ll not find better prices.

While most of us must make a choice,
Between the wonk and dream,
And both are cause for keen rejoice,
The wonk can stifle screams.

And if you sleep while facing down,
Therefore so's your tummy,
What made you smile, will cause a frown,
On laundry day for Mummy.

If, on the other hand, you wonk,
You will not mess your bed,
No one would know - unless you conk -
The wall upon your head.

The wonk gives you complete control,
To ponder lovely faces,
Unlike the dream which flags its pole,
On intermittent basis.

No matter just how long it's been,
If you should choose to nod.
Your brain can always find a scene,
Erotically flawed.

Just when you think you've got things made,
Your motion's quick and short;
You wake up hard, your sleep betrayed,
Soft ending to your sport.

When you were young, it happened more,
Always were you grateful;
Now high and dry, an empty roar,
From your old unfaithful.

Ah, there's the rub! Repeat that please,
Ready for commission.
But all that flows despite your pleas -
Nocturnal pre-emission.

Wet dreams at night upon you creep,
Of dancers nude and lap:
In day, take note of where you sleep -
Beware of the wet nap.

But oh the wonk, the glad-hand wonk,
Good for each occasion,
Unless you should be too rough - donc,
You suffer an abrasion.

You may feel guilty for your sin,
Of wild imagination.
Yet add no more than silly grin,
To the population.

Sometimes we wonk with one eye shut,
We hide there in the gloom.
Afraid to concentrate on smut,
Lest Dad walks in the room.

And Mother tells us we'll go blind,
Should we not mend our way.
Optometrists aren't hard to find -
We do it twice a day.

You need not strut, you need not rue,
You only need be deft.
Besides, to feel like someone new -
You need just use your left.

The risk of STD will fade,
You’ll never use a glove.
And wise the words of Woody A. –
“It’s sex with one you love.”

Now some may want a soothing gel,
While others let 'er rip.
It sure beats solitaire to hell,
Your best hand is your grip.

We may feel love when hearing Keats,
Perhaps in joyous psalm.
But love that proves to be most sweet.
Comes when you read your palm.

Our dreams give rise to sex or fright,
Which could well leave us bonkers;
It's clear that Doctor Elder's right -
You're best a willy wonker.

Fatigue can fool the best laid plan,
It's better pulled when pushed.
A bird is worth more in your hand -
Than two if you are bushed.

To sleep, to dream, to wonk perchance,
Both can be of pleasure;
But greatly can the wonk enhance -
The telling of your measure.