in the green weald, I was trick-or-treating
I came upon some Wiccan chicks meeting
they gave me candy
it tasted dandy
but I found the bliss to be too fleeting

they said, “now, Sheela you can savor
if you feel you’re man enough to brave Her
in yonder hollow
She’s poised to swallow
you merely need to sign this waiver”

I was oh, so excited
I was dancing a reel and a jiggy
as I sped down the trail
on my way to nail Sheela na Gig-ee

now, the wee ones find me most appealing
I’ve had young Pygmy wimmins squealing
had midgets moaning
some gnome girl groaning
a Lilliputian priestess kneeling

see, though it’s size most guys are flaunting
my average apple has never left Eve wanting
as for Her daughters
I’ve snaked their waters
some say, their garden I’m still haunting

as a rule, chicks could make
a right satisfying meal of the figgy
the insatiable exception
was this Sheila called Sheela na Gig-ee

I made my way up to Her altar
I prayed my fella wouldn’t falter
I asked for blessing, began caressing
She anointed me with oyster dressing
and then the walls closed in around me
Her mammoth lips, they up and downed me
She stripped me naked, said, “Hey, let’s make it,
you’ll never find a place more sacred”

I thought I’d seen most every wonder
I never thought to look for one down under
and goodness gracious! Her place was spacious
(Her expectations most fallacious)
I was in about as deep as one can get
and then She asked me, “is it in yet?”
I couldn’t jive Her, we didn’t jibe
Her volvo was just too big for my driver

when my raised mast sailed past their islands
the Sirens observed a moment of silence
my dinghy one fifth
the stuff of Greek myth
their lips were sealed like virgin hymens

but when Odysseus made the same trip
and those same birds eyed his massive flagship
they sang some shanties
they shed their panties
they tempted him with their steamed clam dip

sure, and he was the first to get
Circe to squeal like a piggy
but even his girth proved worthless
when he tried to pork Sheela na Gig-ee

after sex, you might feel…
well, you might really feel like a ciggie
but you’d best watch your ashes
if you’re still inside Sheela na Gig-ee

©2006 Robert ‘Rafiki’ Reiser