She is a sultry thing walking that way,
the rhythm of the blues making her sway.
Hips swishing as she kept the slow beat,
my mind bent as my cheeks felt the heat.
Smiling and dancing all around the bar,
moving to the rhythm of the blues guitar.
Her faint perfume scent drifted over to me,
watchin' that fine booty, strokin' my goatee.
I couldn't help but sway to the beat with her,
if given half a chance, I'd say yes for sure.
To a night out with her, pressed up so tight,
it would sure be heaven to finish spending the night.
Author notes
Love You Tory. *muah*
In a list
A contest entry
- Your Maverick Prewrites . . . by RatherImaginative.
925 points, ended October 16, 2008, 67 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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I like this piece, as it reminds of me of my Friday nights.
You've described the scene and thoughts of the characters most vividly. Thanks so much for entering my contest!
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