Cindernelly- A Restoration Fairytale.

o all you young maids of a lowly birth,
That dream of gaining societal worth
Those begat by the likes of beggars and whores Born mulling and puking on bawdy house floors

This fairy tales writ for the likes of you
It’s a one for the masses not just for the few
And we’ve all heard tales of the prodigal Prince
So charmed by some common girls flowering quince

That armed with one shoe and a massive spreadsheet He went out in search of her geisha like feet
And ignoring their ruinous social divide
Bought the pauper for his bride

Oh yes we all know this sanitised version That’s been scrubbed clean of all it’s perversion But our girls story is sadly more twisted
Cause this Cinderella, really existed

So I’m asking you kindly to go gentle
And not be too quick in being judgemental
Of this wretched and wiffy licentious foul ‘maid’ Who’d probably benefit from getting spade

But to comprehend this historical muse
We must first take a look to the context clues

You see she was the product of a bygone age When herpes and gout were still all the rage

When, freed at last from the wintery manacles
Of Cromwells army of mad puritanicals,
England exalts in a kings restoration
And thrums with the groans of their mass fornication

And it’s in to this heaving belly of sin

2 of 5-Cindernelly Gwynn.

That I’ll first introduce pretty, witty Nell Gwynn.

And you might be thinking that pretty’s a stretch regarding the visage of this acrid wretch.

For life has been cruel for poor old Gwynn And played havoc with her teeth and skin.

Or rather I should say her tooth,
For she’s mostly blackened gums in truth

Even in this foul epoch
When pustules and boils run wildly amok
Nelly’s unusual skin diseases
stand out for their likeness to French and blue cheeses.

So yes surviving by crooking and hooking
Has rendered her perhaps a bit less good looking But observe closely with a more trained eye,
past the club foot and weeping stye,

Our nelly has a certain sexual appeal, Maybe it’s the scent of fresh jellied eel,, That clings to her tresses of matted hair, Or more likely it is the ample pair

Her blouse is struggling to constrain,
As she jiggles her way down drury lane,

Hawking the contents of her pail,
And other fishy treats for sale,
‘A shillin an erring from my bucket,
Or for an hapenny sirs I’ll appily suck it’

And it’s at this rather opportune juncture, That a passing carriage suffers a puncture, And out in to this squalid street
Steps a festooned pair of ribboned feet.’

‘Caution your highness you’ll catch the pox’

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Sneers a voice from inside the royal box

‘Oh tish’ replies the glittering figure I’m truffling out a nice gold digger’

These common girls are all so succulent,
So wonderfully coarse and rippingly truculent, Much livelier sport than these sops in court, Its worth the odd pesky venereal wart’

‘Now unsheath and fluff my royal dong’
He boomed as he fingered his way through the fetid throng,

Eeny meeny kingy wingy,
Who wants a knighthood from my thingy?’

When out of the ferment of soho’s sluttery, His hands alit on the slick and buttery,

Orbs of the buoyant bouncing nelly, ‘my hankie’ he cries

‘this is gonna get smelly’

Ma’am your plumpys are ripe and ready for plucking, your bearded oyster’s thirsty for shucking

Wasting no time on polite introductions He quickly advanced his salty seductions Seconds named Charlie first names king, Now gobble up my royal ring! ‘

And suddenly they are on the floor, With Charles oinking like a feral boar, His head betwixt nells milky glands, Motoring them with his lips and hands

And not being one to shirk her work,
In suit, our mistress went bezerk,
Frotting and fiddling and fondling and dribbling, Suckling and biting and gnashing and nibbling,

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Leaving no hole un salivated
No orifice not excavated.
Until at last this courtship ended, Leaving Nellys front bum quite distended

And Charlie’s shrivelled to a prune
By this time twas late the next afternoon,

‘Gadzooks’Charles moaned,as he cleaved to gwynns chest, Ne’er have my trews been
So richly messed.

I have ne’er met a bunter more wantonly whoreish, your curried clam ma’am is bloody Moreish’

‘Well’ purrs our nelly with a slippery slyness ‘Truth is your saucy naughty highness’
‘You may have ploughed every hired snatch, But in my quim sir you’ve met your match

I may not be of a pedigree breed,
Or understand words what how to read, But In all matters of the obscene,
I am the god anointed queen’

So if you want my expertise Charlie boy, get on your knees,

Stockpile ya hankies and lubes and cialis And move me into ya Windsor Palace

I’ll keep your bone so well falated,
You’ll want me Jewelled and orbed and coronated, Sir your blue balls will be cured for life
If y’all take me for ya common law wife.

Now this might sound like a flight of fancy, You might think that there is small chance he, would do a thing that’s so wrongheaded, That gwynnys’ doomed to be beheaded

5 of 5-Cindernelly Gwynn.

But history turns us all to fools,
For Nell did breach the castle walls,
And after some visits from the monarchy’s Guinny, To swill out her infested hiney,

And once her tooth was given a brush,
And they’d scoured off some of her facial thrush,

Quite far from being decapitated,
She was idolised and celebrated.
In Charles court, she lived all her days, Solely leaving to star in lewd comedy plays

And she wasn’t just famed for her lustrous big tits, But lorded for her sparkling wits

But if you doubt me, just ask Pepys, One of histories more talkative creeps, ‘Our Nells the spirit of our age’
He scribes on every sticky page.

Back then you see girls were allowed to be funny, Well, as long as you had a hospitable cunny.

And as for her frisson with the king.
They were blessed with a horde of spoilt offspring Thus forging the unlikely entry
Of nell Gwynns genes in the landed gentry.

In fact, today, on the Tory back benches,
Sit mostly the kin of the monarchy’s wenches, So next time you marvel at the House of Lords, Spare first a thought for the lusty bawds,

Who lay on their backs and thought of Britain,
Who’s stories are so seldom written,
And there never was one who boinked with more welly Than our dear Ignominious Cinder-nelly.