Tread Lightly Poem by Belle Violet

Farmboy,
baby, tread lightly;
I'm not sure what I'm after,
you don't really
make me laugh, but,
those baby blues
can undo me.
When your brow bends
your whole face,
it softens,
into the softest
of expressions.
like suede or
velvet
and your eyes
like blue stardust,
I could see yours
as a chest, that
for years
I could paw at..
I even like your
elf ears.
Your cute, crooked tooth.
Those sh*t-kickin work boots.
I kinda like that you're not very tall;
similar hip placement,
rhythm,
and all.
I love that you rock
Wrangler jeans and cut offs.
Work tans, and those
surprisingly
wonderful
strong,
long hands.
I just haven’t decided
if I’m gonna let you
be
my man.
If you were,
I’d make you
Italian food.
Cook naked, sing
Lou Monte tunes,
And I expect
you'd protect me.
And I think
you would.
Of most men,
I'd think,
you, at least, could.
You're not weighted
with a driftwood life.
No kids, and no wife.
If someday, I ever
put a ring on your hand,
you're best in believin’
I'd give you no reason
to hide it;
in fact,
I think you would find it
comfy, at best.
And me, endlessly wet.
Well, you'd better
go be a man, then.
Get the ball rolling,
tell your best friend
we got something going.
Because,
while I like you,
and your pretty light eyes,
I got a real problem
with waffling guys.
You get
what you work for;
you work for,
what you want,
and if you don’t blow this whistle,
I’m assuming that we’re done.
Tread lightly, baby;
this girl
will only wait
once.