Oh Look

Oh look
A glimpse of thigh
As her legs cross
Young girls
Hipster clad
Showing thongs
Fail to titillate
But the young woman
In the lemon dress
Illuminated in the sunlight’s shaft
Excites the senses
A well-endowed Philly
On an adjacent table
Leans forward suddenly
And her breasts
Rearrange themselves
Delightfully
I feel no shame
As I view
A curvaceous beauty
A shapely leg
Or well-sculptured ankle
Pert well formed buttocks
Plump or perky breasts
But nothing tarty or vampish
No bare midriffs
Or obscenely short skirts
Less is more
I feel no shame
For letching
Where’s the sin
In looking
They are god’s creation
Well packaged
Why would he
Give us such delicacies
If he intended us not to look
So where’s the sin
Even if I am the vicar

Copyright © Paul Curtis. All Rights Reserved