Vanish Windows

Vanish Windows Poems

My lover whips off his trousers,
my eyes open wider,
hot steam rises....
I lick my lips,
...

His lips are an ocean
lapping her breast

Her fingertips explore the swell
...

A handsome young man from the Curragh
Made it known he was terribly thorough.
If his lover was faking
When they were love making
...

There was a young man from Kildare
Wo was known for his beautiful hair.
His girl-friends would smile
At its elegant style
...

An Actress whose name was Amelia
Got glowing reviews as Ophelia.
When Hamlet came on
Her comment was, 'Hun,
...

There once was a handsome young gigolo
Who had a most sensitive piccolo
his girlfriends would say
they preferred it that way
...

A randy old man from Amalfi
said, 'I know I shall never be wealthy,
but I scatter my seed
whenever I need,
...

A chap who was known to be Spanish
would dance with a poet named Vanish
They fandangoed all day
and we all heard her say,
...

Enjoying jam today (his Continental breakfast)
my lover poses like the Mona Lisa
in front of a spiky Italian rock.
...

You gave me the Kama Sutra.
The pop-up edition - with full
chance for reader participation,
and plenty of tabs to pull.
...

Vanish Windows Biography

If poems rhyme with strict metre, they make me laugh, either with delight or scorn - depends what has been sacrificed in terms of meaning in the process. So a lot of my poems are limericks, one of the oldest rhymed poetic forms in print. And I like them to be a little bit rude, to brighten up the long days. Please don't email to ask me to read your poems - I won't do that to you and I shall delet without opening any begging letters looking for ratings! In fact I shall wilfully avoid the sites of anyone who does message me like that. But feel free to comment or write poems back and I'll do the same for you! ratings don't interest me - the fun is in the writing!)

The Best Poem Of Vanish Windows

Hot Stuff

My lover whips off his trousers,
my eyes open wider,
hot steam rises....
I lick my lips,
anticipating
what comes next...
smile to myself
as he irons out every crease...
what an aphrodisiac....
a man who does his own
ironing.

In the garden
the bamboo agrees,
nodding in the wind.

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