ANY OLD PORT IN A STORM

 

I was stranded and lonely with time to kill

And I was looking for someone to cure my ill

They told me about the only available “miss”

Who went by the unkind name of ugly Agnes

“Left on the shelf, and as plain as a pike staff”

“Facing the wall” he said followed by a laugh

I figured she’d be better than nothing at all

The girl left on the shelf, facing the wall

They gave me some direction to follow

Where I crept to and peeked in the window

I spied her in the candle lights flicker

Legs akimbo showing a glimpse of knicker

This old maid, who’d been left on the shelf

Was sat home alone pleasuring herself

There was nothing homely about this old maid

As she caressed herself and erotically played

And as I watched her deft self seduction

I was anxious to make my introduction

Outside I banged hard on the front door

Inside I banged her hard on the floor

But the savage and primeval union

Led to a more tender sensual communion

What had begun as “any old port in a storm”

Ended with me proud to stay till the dawn

Now I often get stranded with time to kill

And I know where to go to cure my ill

The locals call her Ugly Agnes or Plain Jane

But I go to love her again and again