Quote Originally Posted by freckle View Post
A poem incorporating bollock scratching, now there is a thought!
I scratched my bollocks in a crowd
I scratched them high o’er vales and hills
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
And hidden there, beneath the trees,
Was a bollock scratching Monsieur Breeze

Just a first draft. Hope Mr Breeze isn't offended.