Legging It Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

'Twas bedtime, very late the hour,
I shuffled slowly past the bath
when through the door I heard the shower,
so I reversed my sleepy path.

And peeked inside. So that I might
thus ascertain the reason for
the sound that cometh through the door.

And what a sight now greeted me!
There was my lovely getting wet-
in preparation for the bed?
And upwards and below the knee
she was applying shaving gel
with woman's hands, so lovingly.

The water off. The razor stroking
her scrumptious legs now, up and down.
I stood like Mesmer, almost choking,
so grabbed a footstool and sat down.

She didn't mind me watching her
and glanced at me, and smiled a bit
her kimono, it seemed to me
was flashing at me through the slits.

I've always liked that kimono.
It's not judgmental, nor severe.
It covers her.....well...just so-so-so,
although, believe me, I don't leer.

As she cut the smallest hairs,
avoiding hasty nicks and tears
I marvelled at the time it took
to bring about the baby look.

Was just about to recommend
to let it grow to its desire,
when I remembered, trusted friend
that shaved legs set my heart on fire.

I rinsed them off and tested both
for smoothness and for imperfections.
And told her 'you shave very close',
the razor's name was 'New Directions'.

The cream was waiting by the bed.
She settled back, but naked now.
I like it when she's game to let
me rub it in -and I know how.

I spent considerable time,
ensuring that this application
be welcomed like a nursery rhyme.
It was a wonderful sensation.

And very gently then I kissed
some spots that she had skipped or missed:
Her heels, her feet and pointed knees
and nether parts that no one sees-
ten precious tootsies, one by one,
they had to, wanted to be done.

I had not used the cream on those,
that would be just like wearing gloves.
Her toes now lightly tapped my nose,
you're listening to a man who loves.

He loves every cranny, each nook and each hair,
he treasures her shyness, her smile and her flair.
He changed from a heathen to a true believer.
A creation like this - could you ever leave her?

And all you people -are you peeping?
No need for that - no need to roam.
A dozen nights of happy sleeping:
She shaves again, and I'll be home!