Dreams Of Pretty Dancing Girls

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Dreams of pretty dancing girls
Tartan skirts & gold buckles on their shoes
Legs draped in such fine stockings
High kicks, but treasure out of view

The fantasy of a joyous party
Spirited music playing a bit loud
Fiddles & bagpipes; what a scene
You pulled me out of the dense crowd

Beauty of drinking black beer all day
My stature begins to slightly tilt
You quietly asked me for a light
But there’s no pockets in this kilt

Envisioning what the night might bring
Is it possible that you could be this real
Sharing a pint in a secluded corner
A second Guinness is considered a meal

My Fetish Is Powerful Women

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My fetish is powerful women
Standing proud in front of a crowd
Holding court with authenticity
Firmly entrenched without having to get loud

Mesmerized by the way she carries herself
Controlling me with a compassionate glance
She’s my incandescent muse
My reason for believing in happenstance

She’s regal without being out of touch
Properly expressing how it feels to be real
But I know she’s never going to give in
No matter our depravities, she will never kneel

Containing the ability to remain soft & lovely
While always making me hard
She can be inconvenient to worship
Not a plot point, won’t let you simply discard

Who am I to say no?
When she asks me to open up for the Queen
I’m the victim of my own volition
But I love it all, if you know what I mean