If Only...

If only I had a really groovy extendable hand,

So I could grab things really far away

And not have to stand

If only I had a magical house

With a teleportation system

And a little talking mouse.

If only I had an enchanted oven

that churned out meals on demand.

Really tasty ones, by the dozen.

If only my cat was the size of a Whale

Then it would be big enough so I could slide down its tail!

If only I had a regenerating cheese

So I could eat it forever and ever.

Unlimited fromagerie teas!

If only my eyeballs were made of chocolate and not of jelly

Then if I got peckish I could pluck them out and eat them

to fill up my growling belly.

If only...

Catherine Carpet (A Woman's touch)

Catherine Carpet is this stunning lady's name

I've become infatuated. Possessed. And I feel no shame.

Soft skin like a ripe french peach

Scent like hot, fresh kittens

With pearly piano key teeth.

Her hair cascades down her creamy back like a river of chocolate lava.

Her voice reverberates through my core, sending me into a cosmic lather.

Her mouth is like a letter box

Wide and Inviting

I want discover her like an Island

Because she's so very exciting

Catherine has a flexible spine

The shapes she can shift blow my mind.

Long legs like enchanted linguine.

A rump, firm and tight and very teeny.

Her brain is complex like a Badgers warren

Her intelligence terrifies me and her middle name is Lauren.

God Catherine. You send me wild with carnivorous desire

My loins ache for you. My sex burns like fire.

All I want to do is eat you up like my favourite meal

Lock you up in a box and have a good feel.

I'm going to fold you up like a jumper and put you in a drawer

If someone asks where you are, I'll say "I never saw' er"

You make me fizz, you make me squirm

I want you to infect my body like a horrible germ.

I'll see you soon Catherine. You won't have to wait long.

I'm round the corner right now actually.

My elegant, nimble, nubile Swan.

CHICKEN

Twas in Sainsburys that my lusty eyes first fell upon it.

Cold, pimpled and pink, It beckoned me from the chiller cabinet.

I plucked it from the shelf with talon like ravenous hands

Raced home like a whippet, my mind racing with cullinery plans.

I ripped off its clingfilm jacket

Tore it savagely from its polystyrene packet.

I massaged butter and garlic into its skin

Breathed in its poultry scent like it was a forbidden sin.

Popped it in the oven. Turned it on full whack.

Roasted it for an hour til its skin was crispy. Oh what a chickeny snack!

I sunk my teeth into a thigh

Involuntery let out a moan, followed by an orgasmic sigh.

It was salty, juicy, plump and hot

Golden delicious, it hit the spot.

My hunger at last satisfied for now.

What next I wonder? A sheep or a cow?

TOMATO SOUP

Sometimes I just love

A bowl of Heinz tomato soup

Bright and orange and sweet

florescent coloured gloop.

Sometimes I like to add

a spoonful of double cream

decadent I know,

But oh what a soupy dream.

Like a river of tomtao lava

it glides down my gullet.

Oh God. It's so delicious.

Even better than red mullet.

PERHAPS I'D LIKE TO BE

Sometimes I think I'd like to implode

Live a simple life as jolly toad.

Leaping lightly through meadows sweet

Or maybe I'd like to be a cured meat?

A wafer thin slice of parma ham

pink and tender, soft as a spring lamb.

Or perhaps I'd like to be, a raspberry tipped milky breast?

Beautiful pillowy mountains atop a sculpted chest.

Tits and ham and toads.

Fireworks, cheese and choads.

All these things are all very well

But I'll stick with being me, because I'm fantastic and swell.

JACK AND THE SPIDER SANDWICH

Jack the worm was a complex little fellow

He had strange desires, low self esteem and was surprisingly talented on the cello.

He seldom wanted something to eat but today he craved a very,very special treat.

He wanted to eat a spider sandwich.

Soft, white bread, butter and arachnids.

This spidery, doughy dream

seemed to him, more essential than his spleen.

But something inside him rejected this long legged treat

self loathing seeped out of his pores and try as he might, he just couldn't eat.

He hated himself, he thought he was really, really crap

So he didn't eat the sandwich. He just had a nap.

AN ODE TO A PRAWN

Sometimes I like to eat a prawn for my tea.

Plump, juicy, pink. Straight from the salty sea.

They have spooky round eyes like little black spheres.

They wear jackets that are crispy

and have no visible ears.