In Canine Style

I began to write these words in a noble undertaking;

Of how after a brutal day when you were tired and aching

I would greet you tiger balm in palm and soothe your pains away.

But you subverted my intent and caused thoughts to go astray.

So now my once pure sentiment has come thus far to tarry:

I won’t be cast in the position of your missionary;

And French oratory just cannot ever make it complete;

While a tale from classic Greek annals never leaves me replete.

Yes, I know my raging thoughts have quickly turned lusty and lewd,

And the words to follow these are going to turn downright crude;

But I can’t fight this desire you did ignite and make me feel.

I’m a desperately starving man and you’re the perfect meal.

So it has to be like a cur howling in the filthy street

After catching a mad’ning whiff of a bitch in ready heat;

Until a thick silver stream flows from your sweet nectared valley

And that which comes with multiple ease, goes times without tally.