An ancient lamp half-buried in the sand
halted her steps, as she stooped at her waist
gazing at the odd pot. She was a chaste
lady who'd never seen such thing in land.

By who this antique thing was dropped, she thought,
could it be brought by that devouring roar,
and had long rested here? No arcane lore
she'd known might acquaint her with what'd been sought.

But in a flickering moment the tale
emerged on her mind and she recalled
the myth of the genie in lamp. Gamboled,
she burnished the lamp with hands so female.

Hard she tried nonetheless, there were no wish-
master exploding into the air for
the salvation, reciprocating more
with wishes that no one would relinquish.

Thus she placed it upon her creamy chest
to take it homeward. As she strolled over
the beach, surprisingly it did quiver,
as if something was about to manifest.

Violently she rubbed it with her good breast,
expecting she'd gain some compensation
through this sensational conjuration,
forgetting how nicely she had been dressed.

Perhaps still it was not enough, she dropped
the lamp and sat directly upon it.
Its strong spout whispering between her thighs,
chorusing gaily with her own groaning.

On and on and on and on, finally,
she felt that nasty something flooded in,
and her joy grew to be panic worry,
but the thing had returned to serenity.