A delightful and very talented lass named Branwen came visiting Politarchopolis for a few months, and quite caught everyone’s attention. She was a belly-dancer in her native Stormhold and assisted in the renaissance of that particular spectator sport here as well (‘though Former Drill Sergeant Oonagh The Fairy did most of the work, isn’t that right Mum?). I hear she’s back from her national walkabout and living in Mundania, which is a tragedy. I hope she comes back, cos she was very good…
[mid-1995ish]
She came from misty Stormhold
To tour our wide beige land,
To the bustling metropolis
Of gay Politarchopolis
And took the boys in hand.
She shimmers like a silver trout,
She hovers like a dove,
She oozes grace
In her form and her face
But it’s her navel that we love.
This Branwen is a dancer,
She moves like silk on heat.
She’s a talented practitioner,
A harem could audition ‘er:
Her belly can’t be beat.
We watch her wild wiggling,
Her every lunge and thrust.
I’m trying to be celibate,
She made my headache swell a bit,
To see her is a must!