Windy Crevice – A Poem

I was walking in the Grand Canyon

Far down below,

When the air grew a bit cooler

And the wind started to blow.


I wrapped my arms around me

And pulled up my hood,

I picked up my pace

As quickly as I could.


It was starting to get dark

So I went to make my ascent,

And hoped that all that wind

Had not blown away my tent!


But a rather wide crevice

Gaped at me to my right –

The wind tugged me inside,

Taking me deeper into the blackening night.

Sweaty Crack Pt.2 – A Poem

Note: This is a continuation of ‘Sweaty Crack – A Poem


I keep jogging along

An old dusty track,

When I remember

My faithful little knapsack.


I swing it off my shoulders

Inside is an ice-pack –

One of those small squidgy ones,

Maybe I could use that!


I pry my cheeks wide open

Feel the cool air in my crack,

But then a sweaty fart escapes

Now, dignity I lack!


I realise that this will not do,

Maybe I should find a stream.

Surely all that rushing water

Will make my crack squeaky clean?


I work my way to a river

Through bushes, brambles and flowers.

So much hard work…then it hits me,

Maybe I should just go home and shower.

Sweaty Crack – A Poem

This is very refreshing

And so much fun.

It started off as a walk

But turned into a run.


Over the mountain

And over a hill,

Through the meadow

And past an old mill.


But then it begins –

The uncomfortable itch,

Around the same time

That I start to get a stitch.


Plunging my hand down

My pants to have a scratch,

The back of my hand on the cotton

Discovers a wet patch.


Having slowed to a jog,

I trace the wetness up my back,

It’s a trickle down my spine

Feeding into my sweaty crack.


Note: This poem was so much fun to write, so I hope you enjoyed it! In fact it was so much fun, that I have written ‘Sweaty Crack Part 2’, which is a continuation of the story. I will be publishing it next Wednesday, so I hope you’ll be around to read that too 😉

Offcut Face – A Poem

Your face looks like an offcut,

Can’t get the thought out of my head.

Your face looks like an offcut

And your skull is made of lead.


Your brain looks like an olive

With a big hole in the middle,

Your brain looks like an olive

Because on one end’s a wrinkle.


You say to me that I am wrong,

That your brain is very dense.

I look at you with pitying eyes –

I didn’t mean to cause offence.


I smile and admit that I am wrong,

You have nothing left to prove.

Your brain looks like a mango,

With a stump-like stalk and smooth.

My Green Field – A Poem

One look over the fence

And I can’t help myself.

Frantically straddling the gate

As if tempted by bait!


Feet planting softly on the ground

Almost without a sound.

This skill, not only great,

But completely innate!


The feel of the grass

Between my toes

Is enough to make me

Forget all my woes.

But then I have a shock

And my heart skips a beat

As I fail to recall

When my shoes left my feet!


Shrugging, I walk towards

An overhanging tree

When I feel the grass

Tickle my knee.

I do a little jump

And wonder what’s going on,

Because when I look down

My trousers are gone!


While I am feeling

Particularly vexed,

I wonder which item

Of clothing will be next!


Panicking a little,

I look all around.

Though no one’s about

I still shrink to the ground.


I wouldn’t really mind

As long as no one sees.

In fact it gives me quite a thrill

Especially when there’s a breeze!


I decide that I do

Not care anymore –

Of the lush green grass

I just want more!

All of my clothes

To the grass I yield,

Jealousy surges through me –

I wish this was my green field.


This poem is for everyone who enjoys rolling around naked on other people’s properties.