I always liked Roger White's poem Applesauce, & its clever comment on sex.
ROGER WHITE AND APPLESAUCE
I always liked Roger White's poem "Applesauce"(1) and its light, humorous and quite clever comment on sex and sexuality. Roger sent it to me about 30 years ago now when my wife and son and I lived in Katherine, one of the main towns in Australia’s Northern Territory, a town of three or four thousand at the time. I was working as an adult educator and getting a good deal of education myself—little did I know.” –Ron Price with thanks to (1)Roger White, Applesauce in Whitewash, a privately printed first draft of poems, Haifa, Israel, 1982, p.8.)
I tire, Eve, of innocence,
Let's kiss and grow contented.
Suppose we touched, where I protrude
And you're cunningly indented.?
Oh Adam, what a sweet pastime!
I'm glad that I consented.
Tell me, dear, what shall we call
This game that we've invented?
With half my heart I'd call it love
And not have it repented;
The other half would name it sin
And urge it be prevented.
Had I not led you to the fruit
Guilt would be circumvented.
My punishment's to have my crime
Spake the snake:
All Adam's sons are cursed to woo
A maid and gently take her;
But after they've made applesauce
They'll like as not forsake her.
And down the centuries men proclaim:
We'll take the pleasure, she the blame.
Let posterity lament
That mother Eve gave her assent;
In slithering wisdom I rejoice
That she gave birth to slippery choice.
And so, I wish you all, dear readers, many happy delights in the years ahead in the early, middle or late adulthood of your life—with whatever level of Applesauce is yours. I may come back to this part of my website and document, poetically, some of the experience of the sex-life of famous writers and poets, as well as others from the many walks of life.
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