The morning was calling me,
With many places to be,
With winters chill upon the floor,
Reaching for some socks to put on,
I would soon be heading for the door,
I had just finished one..
When….

I was roughly pulled from behind,
Not that I really did mind,
‘cause soon lips with kisses sweet
calmed my dangling feet.
‘cause soon with search hand firm
held for that which I always yearn.
And passions burn.

After feeling loves power
And wondering if,
. . . . . I’d ever get the other sock on,
you went for a quick shower,
intending to be too soon gone.

I found you in the spray,
Water, steam, misty air,
Attempting to get away
Soap still foamed your hair
I kiss your soft skin,
Eyes closed against the soapiness,
Stroking your legs thigh to shin
And upwardly with gentleness.

You sank to my rising, gasping,
Of the joining,
Water flowing,
But in love we both were clasping,
Caring not for anything.

In a towel I hugged dry,
You began laughing,
Looking down I saw why,
I still just had one sock on.