Stepping From Your Truck You Were Sexy
Looking out my front doorI saw the wind was blowing more
I started to step back inside
when my husband pulled up in his ride
That F150's white paint shined
as did the red pinstriped lines
The door opened and I had a view
of a well worn boot and a jeaned leg too
Just that site made me eager
for the rest of the man, the one who gave me fever
I know the boots, they have a lot of miles
But the've always returned and I've had a lot of smiles
I know the legs, stout, with muscles devine
I've felt them often, entangled in mine
The truck door closed, and there he stood,
faded jean shirt, looking Paul Newman good.
He had a western hat, pulled just right on him
His wavy greying hair peek flirtingly neath the brim
With his hands on his hips, he was looking just past me
So I studied his face and got a thrill or three
He has a strong sqared jawline and perfect dimpled chin
His mouth is full and ample, his lips curl into a grin
His nose is Roman straight, just perfect on his face
I often like to kiss it and give it a finger trace
And then there are his eyes, delicate blue and oh so clear
That no one can turn from them, they draw you in so near
He looked right at me and then started that stride,
That says, "Come here, I'll give you a ride."
Through the house I floated smiling as I went
Why was I smiling? I'll give you a little hint
Hes a very good driver. He knows all the signs
If you don't understand try reading between the lines.
Poetry by Phyllis J. Rhodes
Read 760 times
Written on 2007-05-22 at 15:27
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