My Pantyhose.


The only “running” I can chalk up to this man,

Is what he often does to my pantyhose;

His eyes are like dart guns ready to fire,

Set right above a fiercely Roman nose;

His hands have the strength of an army on parade,

Their’ grip, so tight and so right;

He has a way of tunneling my vision down;

Until it’s only him left within my sight.

The only “breaking” I can attribute to this man,

Would be what he’s done to my every rule;

His forces, so strong and unstoppable:

He makes even Father Time look like a fool.

His heart is so big and wide open to all,

As he sports it along the outside of his sleeve;

The only time he’s ever left me behind,

Was to show me how he’d never leave.

The only “pain” associated with this man’s face,

Is the pain I feel when he crawls out of our bed at 5am;

His words are solidly cemented truths,

Left in my heart until he comes back again.

2 thoughts on “My Pantyhose.

  1. JunkChuck says:

    Wow. It’s hard to give a man a better gift than testimony like that.