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Poem

Poised, she walked into a department store; a stranger was suddenly wowed. 
He appeared in ideal manliness, then lost her in the crowd.  So, he searched for 
those slender curves through all the women's clothes, but she was on the other 
side looking through panty hose.  Fingering, rapidly, through each rack for the 
color and right size that would sculpt her legs, caress her hips and fit those 
perfect thighs, she found what she was looking for (but in plastic packs they 
hide).  She read it twice, removed its package to see what was really inside.  She 
grabbed it, rubbed it, stretched it and saw that it looked just right; but she 
repacked it, put it behind the others and took the one sealed up tight- just as that 
seemingly perfect gentleman crept up from behind.  She was startled, yet well 
impressed, but she could not read his mind.  So, she should remember this 
when approached by a flirt's advice that a lot of men would handle her like she 
handled that merchandise.  And who wants to be used, and left for another to be 
tampered with again?  And who wants to be picked over, finally reduced for the 
first hand in the bin?  Or dirtied and then used all up, sometimes after the first 
wear?  Running all over from manhandling, developing many a tear, it's 
discarded; so, she shouldn't be taken out By every Tom, Trick, and myth, but be of 
high regard, a model of women who refuse to be tampered with.

Inspired by Jo Ellen Israel

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