Izzy Bizzy

Izzy Bizzy

Izzy Bizzy spied her, peeping through the glass.
Sally in a silken robe all dewy from the bath.
Izzy creeps in closer, hoping for a glance;
one hand on the windowsill, the other in his pants.

Sally combs her golden locks and paints a pretty face,
sitting at the looking glass while Izzy lurks and waits.
Sally drops her dainty robe, now everything is shown.
Izzy does his Bizzy-ness with grasping, grunting groans.

Izzy's dizzy climax soon gives himself away.
Sally shrieks in horror at Izzy in her pane.
Sally gathers up the robe, her honor to defend.
Izzy beats it down the street, perhaps he'll come again?