Musings by The Poet Loriet
Follow Me
Mr. Limo Driver,
with arms as comforting
as Tollhouse cookies,
(warm and gooey)
after being trapped
in a downpour
of cold wet rain...
I'll follow you
through every seedy
downtown street
as you transport
our city's richest drunks...
Then I'll race you
to an empty lot
where we can steal
a few moments,
some tender kisses,
whatever laughs
we can sneak in
through the iron bars
of night's jail cell.
Lower the privacy glass
and hand over the
keys to your heart.
I'm tossing them
into the nearby river
as I throw caution
to the ebony wind.
Mr. Limo Driver,
I want to listen
to your engine purr
and idle away
borrowed time.
Turn off your meter,
stop the clock--
Lock us into a
plush-cushioned
love embrace.
Discard your
driving gloves.
Let me unbutton
the top few buttons
of your white starched shirt.
Let's kick off our shoes
and pretend
we're passengers
like so many newlyweds
who have graced
these seats.
I want you
to drive me far away,
to the country roads
where the harsh
white lines of reality
fade into
oblivion...
and we'll make
our escape,
Mr. Limo Driver,
take me home.
Lori Beal
with arms as comforting
as Tollhouse cookies,
(warm and gooey)
after being trapped
in a downpour
of cold wet rain...
I'll follow you
through every seedy
downtown street
as you transport
our city's richest drunks...
Then I'll race you
to an empty lot
where we can steal
a few moments,
some tender kisses,
whatever laughs
we can sneak in
through the iron bars
of night's jail cell.
Lower the privacy glass
and hand over the
keys to your heart.
I'm tossing them
into the nearby river
as I throw caution
to the ebony wind.
Mr. Limo Driver,
I want to listen
to your engine purr
and idle away
borrowed time.
Turn off your meter,
stop the clock--
Lock us into a
plush-cushioned
love embrace.
Discard your
driving gloves.
Let me unbutton
the top few buttons
of your white starched shirt.
Let's kick off our shoes
and pretend
we're passengers
like so many newlyweds
who have graced
these seats.
I want you
to drive me far away,
to the country roads
where the harsh
white lines of reality
fade into
oblivion...
and we'll make
our escape,
Mr. Limo Driver,
take me home.
Lori Beal
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