The Burn

The sky this morning seems almost aflame,
The burn is in her heart and in her mind
As she revisits memories again;
And finds herself excited,  for she'll find
The pegs left in the back lawn so recall
Those mornings when he tied her on the grass;
And,  belly down,  she felt so very small
As he inserted cock into her arse;
And every sisal bond was really strained
As he inched into her and softly growled:
Lift up your bum - there's nothing to be gained
By resistance, and make sure you've not fowled
Yourself in your anxiety - the pain
Will be as nothing when your soul's aflame.