She won't wear a short skirt or a dress
I am sad, as I joylessly confess,
I think of how I would continually stare
When or if a short skirt or dress for me she would wear.
I wish she'd understand that it's not for her, but for me
It's an ultimate dream and every man's fantasy,
I love the movement and the shape of her fine toned legs
Because of that, my eyes and a fantasy always begs.
I would be so proud of her holding onto my hand
As we walked, and her legs being so nicely tanned,
Then a slight breeze might lift up her dress, or her skirt
Then my temptation would go into a red alert.
Every time that I have asked her to wear a dress or a skirt she refuses
She still gives me her bogus reasoning, and excuses,
I am just giving mine, a true man's point of view
For me this one thing I truly wish that she would do.
When she walks she's always full of elegance and class
And all can see the movement of her shapely nice ass,
I wish that she would release my desires and stress
But, she won't wear for me a short skirt, or a dress.
Randy L. McClave
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem