The Sugar Daddy

Oh, his love is like red lips
Newly painted before night,
And caressed by her fingertips
Beckoning him in delight.

Smiling, he heard her declare
“I am yours when you please,
You can play, touch my hair,
Make me beg on my knees.”

He looks at her love, so sweet;
Like silk over wrinkled skin,
And her body, so firm and petite,
Ready to rekindle the joy of sin.

To tie her up or tie her down,
This much he can understand,
With a credit card or new gown
His love is her command.

About the poet/painter