When the door closed,
she was there waiting,
in the motel room,
I do not know how,
she knew I was going to be here,
Champaign in hand,
two glass near by the stand,
ready for the toasting,
she opened up robe,
wiggle her toes,
then she said I am here for the taking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem