The Grassy Knoll Poem by Francie Lynch

We first sexed in a tumbling, fumbling manner;
The time had come, it seemed to us,
To consummate our virgin lust.

The Valley was shakin' to The Rocks,
A popular Irish band;
We'd had our fill,
I sparked the engine,
And parked my bike on Techumseh Hill.

The summit was dew damp;
We spread wide our pants,
Not knowing who should go for whom,
So we relented to the crescent moon;
I acquiesced to the shooting stars
When my eyes kissed hers.

Diverse moons have filled my nights,
Long since the grassy knoll,
Beyond star light.