Erotic Designs on Stonking Young Englishmen

…

If I was

a strapping 20-year-old,

I’d take up dry-stone walling

on New Zealand’s South Island.

I’ve an inkling

voluptuous Kiwi girls

have erotic designs

on stonking young Englishmen.

I imagine

they’d cast off inhibitions

and trip through fields

of green and gold,

their silhouettes shimmering

in soft tones of

antipodean moonlight.

I envisage

them enjoying half a pound

of prime Anglo sausage

and sharing locally produced

eggs, bacon

and hot buttered toast

in rapacious gluttony

‘til Pacific sunrise dawned

o’er verdant hills and meadows.

Mind you,

I have been blessed

with strange dreams

of late.