I do not fiddle with my toes nor do I toss
since she has come into my life, or so it seems.
You see, the waking hours are not quite enough
I need each night when I can breathe her pheromones
perhaps most do not ever think or give a stuff
a quick release and take your cue from common zones.
She likes me huddling right behind the sweetest bum
hands resting lightly but with meaning on the Twins,
sometimes she takes into her mouth my happy thumb
and he comes out, so full of wetness as he grins.
You say whatever would I want or need to grab
with her in sleep and waking up to roses red,
I say the gift of major science or the gab
can never substitute the time in our bed.
You see, I AM the one who’s smitten to the core,
I’d love her toes if they had stepped in cow manure,
and when it comes to wanting more, I DO want more
and of the choice I am delighted and so sure.
If you, my friend, had ever laid your beady eyes
upon my LOVE you’d never ever sleep again,
tis like the sun that from the yoghurt may arise
though cream is dairy and they rarely rate a ten.
I will not share with you the day nor any night,
and close this snippet of a peeper as I turn
Let us be happy so the gremlins see the light
but my own lantern will be silent, and will burn
for her and me, there are voyeurs but we ignore
and when we touch her fingers feel like midnight fern
so can you see I want it all, and ask for more?

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