MA: Ribaldry, language
Ingrid, a Nordic lass, has unique artistic talents. A fundraiser was scheduled for a local orphanage. Ingrid wished to become a benefactor and so donated her talents.
“Drakt,” to preclude your trip to translation software, is Norwegian for “costume.”
Sweet Ingrid
Sweet Ingrid, a famed Nordic stripper
Was cultured and classy – none hipper,
For an orphanage there,
Said her art she would share,
Declining all offers to tip her.
The promoters this one catch disclosed,
It was outdoors, in winter proposed.
Ingrid took it in stride
Though performing outside
Would leave most of her assets exposed.
Let us admire this generous lass,
Knowing well winter, monkeys, and brass.
Ingrid, good as her word,
Was not the least bit deterred,
Though she knew she’d freeze more than her ass.
Ingrid swiftly undid each zipper
To finish her act a bit quicker.
Her teeth loudly chattered
While her drakt she scattered
On a bench made of stone not of wicker.
First leery of the art form ahead,
The crowd soon warmly cheered her instead.
Still north winds grew bolder,
Sweet Ingrid grew colder,
‘Til the last of her costume she shed.
Clad in G-string and pasties at last,
When Nordic winds with one final blast,
Ripped Ingrid’s pasties clean off,
Someone choked back a cough,
And three gents in the crowd nearly passed.
That gale with its icy cold ripples
Did stiffen those Norwegian nipples.
Then one last wind caressed,
Leaving poor Ingrid dressed
In a cloak of frozen goose pimples.
Her performance a smash sure enough
Ingrid found lingering onstage too tough,
When her drakt tried to clench,
Found it stuck to the bench,
So she flew off the stage nearly buff.
It’s been months since fierce Nordic winds gnawed,
And the crowd rose as one to applaud.
Nordic summers are swell,
But it pains me to tell –
Still the best parts of Ingrid aren’t thawed.
— © spwilcen 2023
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