Swinging Risqué
by Victoria Tarrani
(© 99.10.10)
Into the bar, with beads a swinging,
tiny earrings softly ringing,
walked Risqué without a stitch
bottom begging with each twitch.
Eyes a popping 'mid rowdy words
she laughed at bulls within the herd.
One voice rang out above the rest,
“My dare, my Love, was all in jest.
Conceal from these, your lovely form,
come to the fire, I'll keep you warm!â€Â
And so it thickens, this strange plot
as cries rang out, “Let's make it hot!â€Â
The bulls yelled loud, “Oh let us see
if lust gives way to chivalry!â€Â
The shining knight drew forth his sword
-- The tempered blade blessed in Old Fiord.
“Dare to touch my lovely lass
and you will lie beneath the grass!â€Â
Risqué sauntered through the crowd
each step measured, demeanor proud.
Her knight would save her from this crew,
but even so she was a shrew
with secret weapons of her own.
A whispered word in monotone
would open quickly magic’s gate--
she could afford to ambulate.
A burly hand reached out to snare
this maiden dressed--oh so bare
then covered quickly her red lips.
This was a scenario outside her script.
Would the valiant knight save his strumpet
or would the bull make her his crumpet?
Knight slashed his way across the room
without a fear of his own doom.
Risqué crushed teeth into the palm
freeing her mouth as she stayed calm.
Knight wrapped his arm around her waist
and retreated in impressive haste.
Outside the tavern they could be seen
on daring steed, Knight and his queen.
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