Body Heat 1o5 = The Pot Farmer & God's Poet Poem by Tom Zart

Body Heat 1o5 = The Pot Farmer & God's Poet



BODY HEAT 1O5

We drank several glasses of champagne
In the living room of her house.
Around 9: 30 that evening
I found myself in her blouse.

I fondled and kissed her so gently
Like the soft footsteps of a mouse.
To my surprise, she opened her eyes
And said, "look, we're not going to play house."

I right away replaced her clothing
And buttoned her blouse once more.
There was no doubt of my defeat
As I lay there upon the floor.

She said, "tell the truth, are you angry? "
I answered, by far I was not
'It's more important what you think of me
Than what I may not have got.'

She wiped away a tear from both eyes
And said, 'you're my kind of man.'
At that point, she did arise
And to me she held out her hand

She led me away like a blind man
Who had somehow lost his cane.
When we reached her bedroom door
I thought I'd gone insane.

Before long, we found ourselves naked
As she held me in her palm.
Can you dare imagine, my friend
How hard it was for me to stay calm?

We touched all the forbidden places
As our body heats reached 105.
If love's relief had not been achieved
I doubt if we'd still be alive.

THE POT FARMER

I got out my pipe and stuffed it with pot
You better believe, it held a whole lot.
I whipped out a lighter and thumbed up a flame
Then sucked down that smoke which comforts my brain.

I tried alcohol; and smoked cigarettes
Though, they did nothing, but give me regrets.
My mom had arthritis and couldn't walk around
When I rolled her a joint, she danced on the ground.

I thought I was losing my lovemaking knack
But, after I smoked some, to me it came back.
Soon I decided prices were too high
So I searched for some ground I wouldn't have to buy.

I bargained for seeds from smokers all around
Then, got in my truck and drove out of town.
I walked through the woods where the wild birds nest
And found me the meadow I thought was the best.

I dug up the ground and sowed all my seeds
Then said a small prayer for strong, healthy weeds.
I watered at night with a five-gallon pail
The mosquitoes went hungry for I wore a veil.

Seven months went by; I thought I would die
Till the Halloween moon was high in the sky.
One night I went out, in my camouflage suit
And used a corn knife to chop down the loot.

I hung it up to dry where it couldn't be found.
Then came back and got it, when it had turned brown.
I trimmed off the buds, and stuffed them in bags
Called all my friends and passed out free drags.

In less then a week, my crop was gone!
But, I flew to St. Thomas with love hungry blonde.

GOD'S POET TOM ZART

The Lord can close doors no man can open
And open doors no man can close.
It's up to us to prove our heavenly worth
By our lifetime example of the path we chose.


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