Panties

I contemplate panties
hanging on the line
where have they been
where do they spend their time,
Tight against her pussy
rolled up in a drawer
in the Four Season’s
tossed on the floor,

The limousine driver
opens the back door
dressed for the occasion
nothing less, nothing more,
My favorite black dress
rides up on her thigh
my hand on her knee
my, oh my, oh my,

I slide my hand up higher
and fine what I desire
those tiny black panties
and feel an inner fire,
I hook a finger in them
slip them slowly down
past her knees and ankles
a smile, not a frown,

I hold them for inspection
then against my face
a tiny strip of nylon
a tiny piece of lace,
Put them in my pocket
as the car pulls up the drive
at the concert, we both know
the meaning of alive ....