Relationships at times have been sporadic
Either a feast or a famine it is true.
In betwixt times I have been nomadic
Without a home (it seems) to go back to.
So best to now write on before I've had it
As I am old and nothing much is new.
The next installment now chapter and verse
Her name? Brittany - and I have had worse.

In Banksia* there is a bordello
(I wish I could tell of maidens in a glade).
Less idyllic here, and its in a hollow
Off Princes Highway on the promenade.
No doubt since then "princes" more have followed
To repeat the bad example I have made.
Well life is lonely for the single man -
Sometimes you have to take just what you can.

To go on - I've said there is a knock shop**
With service that would lay a man down low.
Is it still there? well truly I know not
(All this happened so very long ago).
All types of girls - there have been a lot -
(I tell of the horizontal tango).
Well so it was - that's the reality -
For me no small thing or triviality.

I thus enshrine each circumstance in verse
(Not ev'ry girl I've been with was a whore).
Though maybe half - and maybe it's my curse
(Well its more moral than violence and war
Of which I'll speak not - for it is greatly worse
And something which we rightly should deplore) -
And I had not a partner to justify
This recreation of a single guy.

Her name was Brittany (well I have said that)
And I was twenty nine and fancy free.
(By now you prob'ly think I'm a love rat
Though It's more true I was just lonely).
I saw her in the foyer - there she sat
Half naked there in her lingerie.
In the half darkness where I met her eyes
A soft glance that held for me no lies.

About my age she was - her hair was blonde -
Her skin was white in the soft light aglow
(And some may say that things like this are wrong -
Although it happened many moons ago).
Celestial providence when I was young
Where creamy white her milky skin doth show.
Would fair Dianna*** show so wan her features?
With something fate once contrived to teach us.




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