WEST AFRICAN NIGHTMARE.

Bosoms, bosoms, bouncing bare,

down the bush paths, everywhere.

What fantastic hand or eye

 framed your frightfull symmetry.

Row on row of naked chests,

glands mammila, bosoms, breasts.

Bosoms brown and bosoms black,

bosoms firm and bosoms slack.

Bosoms bashful and bosoms bold,

bosoms pendulos and cold.

Bosoms glossy, bosoms dim,

bosoms dainty, bosoms grim.

Bosoms huge and bosoms tidy,

bosoms moist and warm and shiny.

Sugar plums and acid drops,

NAAFI tea cups, razor-strops.

What a nightmare in the nude,

overpowering, rather rude.

Oh! to see again one fair

damsel in a brassiere.

Poem composed by a Captain in the R.A. stationed in West Africa.