Grandfather Clock

The grandfather clock stands alone on the wall
As the time passes, the weights on it fall
The pendulum swings, marking seconds in time
Reminds me of a poem, with its rhythm and rhyme

The hours are tolled, by the clanging of bell
Preceded by music, with an echoing knell
Quarter hours are marked as the minutes go by
Bringing great pleasure, to the ear and the eye

Before I began this poem of the clock
I was thinking of sex and of pussy and cock
And how I could write and to tie them all in
To make it all happen, I just had to begin

To start place a blanket by the clock on the wall
Strip down so you're naked for the rise and the fall
Fondle each other as the time ticks away
Don't be in a hurry for satisfaction today

If time to you matters, start when clock is at one
Do not look again, until after you're done
As the quarter times sound, proceed in the heat
Of the moistened wet pussy, and the throbbing hard meat

Foreplay is important 'til the clock's striking two
What's that you say, for you that is new?
For you it is over, before the first quarter's sound
Your erection is gone and no longer around

The wet spot is there on the blanket below
You still are inserted in her soft camel toe
Cannot move in and out, in her still flowing crack
Your cock will pop out, 'cause it's doubling back

The grandfather clock was a waste for your fuck
Should have lasted 'til three with some timing and luck
Or maybe 'til nine, then to fall off to sleep
Is your lover now sated, or does she think you're a creep?

That is one short tale, of the grandfather clock
And of a short cumming with the tick and the tock
If that is the way that your sex follows time
Don't tell your grandfather, he would think it a crime