Here it comes,
an 18-wheeler bursting from
a sunset so pink and golden
as to make my eyes tear up and
wonder if they're seeing right.
The trailer, embossed with
drifting clouds, holds a cargo
of coveted things, a mixed bag
of dream topics.
But the cab!
Also embossed with drifting clouds
on the outside of it, while on the inside
sits Son of Fabio, long blonde hair
waving in the teasing breeze,
muscles rippling in his arms
with each of his hot breaths
that fog the windshield,
his skin shining at the sight of me,
his smiling, sparkling blue eyes drink me in...
Oh, Lordy Lord, It's hot in here!
I almost jump when the horn sounds,
and blares, turns into a ringing bell,
and I lean over to shut the alarm clock off.
The truck of dreams drives away
until tonight, at least.
Credit: Diane Crawford
About the Creator
real Jema
If you could say one thing and be heard by the entire world, what would that be?
Comments (2)
You did give credit where it's due but I'm not sure if that makes this not a plagiarism.
Amazing poem!