In a forest I went for an amble
and got tangled up in a bramble.

Screaming for vital assistance
I saw a checked shirt in the distance.

Overjoyed when at last he appeared
with his muscles, his ax and his beard

I started to feel very horny
as he whacked at the bush so thorny. 

I needed a log-roll, but could he?
How I pined for a glimpse of his woody!

With haste I unzipped his pants
overwhelmed by the size of his branch. 

On his peavey I started to snack.
“Don’t stop,” barked the brash lumberjack.

His whittling caused me to splinter
and the moment I fell, he yelled, “Timber!”