The Stranger
The day dawned cold
and gloomy
And it never did
improve.
October’s wind cut
through me
Like a knife.
Then, as the sun
was setting,
Numb with cold, I
made a move
That I should be
regretting
All my life.
My car was at the
station
For some
maintenance and all,
My bike for
transportation,
Home I sped.
Along the lonesome
highway
Came a stranger,
dark and tall.
His travels led him
my way,
So he said.
His pickup looked
so cozy
As he stopped
beside my bike
And anyone who
knows me
Would be shocked.
So tall and dark
and friendly,
He was just the
type I like.
He stowed my bike
so gently
As we talked.
The sweater he was
wearing
Both concealed, yet
showed his frame.
I noticed, not
quite daring
Yet to stare.
His overcoat blew
open
And I caught sight
just the same
Of all I had been
hoping
Under there.
He held my door
politely
As I hopped into
the seat.
His manner, quite
precisely,
Turned me on.
I watched him as I
buckled,
Thinking, “Wow,
this guy is sweet!”
He climbed in and
he chuckled,
“Well, hang on!”
He must have
hypnotized me
With his
honey-laden voice.
I’d not act so
unwisely
Otherwise.
But for whatever
reason,
I did go with him
by choice.
I longed to spend a
season
In his eyes.
Too soon the
miles were covered
And he pulled into
my drive.
A took a chance and
offered
A warm drink.
He said, “I have an
errand
That I have to run
at five,
But maybe, if we
hastened . . .”
With a wink.
My bike he quickly
gathered
And we hustled
through the door.
My teeth began to
chatter
With the cold.
“Is it coffee, tea
or cocoa?”
I said, pulling out
the drawer.
(I know this part
sounds loco
As it’s told.)
But then, he was
behind me
I forgot the drawer
and turned.
He held me, not
unkindly,
With this plea,
“You offer me
refreshment,
Just precisely as
I’d yearned.
I beg of you, don’t
torment
Me with tea.”
His breath was on
my collar
And his lips
caressed my throat.
I thought that I
should holler
But did not.
His bite was hardly
painful
And my mind began
to float.
To fight, I was
unable . . .
Or forgot.
I am his now, soul
and body.
He’s my
master. I’m his slave.
But the boy is such
a hottie
I don’t care.
When he comes
collecting samples
He bestows the love
I crave
And his manliness
is ample,
And to spare.
