‘Twas The Day Of Harvest End
/Erotica, R-18+
‘Twas the day of Harvest End,
And the festival was in town.
Liquor and laughter ran free
And all sorts of debauchery abound.
The young and the fun
They played a curious game.
If you catch and kiss a maiden,
She’s yours that night to tame.
The girls would run from the ugly,
Avoiding them at all cost.
But when the studs gave them chase
They’d fall and pretend to be lost.
The older women played it differently,
They gathered in curious groups.
Trapping a prospective man,
Then together tying him in loops.
Bound and gagged,
The man pretended to struggle.
A big smile forming under his face,
As he began the first cuddle.
The wisdom of experience
Caused the women to learn.
To only trap a man of great stamina,
If each was to get a turn.
Now there was the curious case
Of old Jimmy McGuffin
Came home from the party
To two girls wanting some lovin.
They were hiding under his sheets,
Just waiting to surprise him.
Bare as the day they were born,
Just hoping to entice him.
But old Jimmy took his time,
He had played this game before,
Despite his age he’d do this well,
And leave those maidens sore.
On the night of Harvest End,
All persuasions are accepted,
With women donning fake beards and
Men in panties expected.
The town square was divided into rooms,
On each door sat careful labels,
‘Pain’, ‘Domination’ and ‘Groups’
Each with toys on pleasure tables.
The night’s pleasures were more than just cardinal,
Indeed the dice and cards ran hot,
With bets ranging from copper pieces,
Up to entire an farming plot.
Circles gathered for the cock fighting,
More still for the quarter staff,
Where combatants fought till concession,
And none attacked by half.
At the feast table sat peasants and the noble,
Mingling freely for the dinner’s length,
Downing mushrooms, riot weed, and haze
Mixed with liquors of varying strength.
But alas all good things must come to a finish,
Even the day of Harvest End.
For the tomorrow the town goes back to planting,
Sowing next year’s dividend.
And until the festival comes again,
Not a word of yesternight is spoken,
The town returns back to normality,
Actively stifling all their fun emotion.
This poem is from the book, ‘Kink, Volume 1’
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