Hot-To-Trot

I find summer in your hair, Your eyes emerald oceans More vast than I could ever grasp. And here I am handing you something to stir with As I rumble with your every word. You are silly, let's get that out of the way. And yet you reign magnificent, Like a queen from the clouds, At-chance choosing me as yours. The music of your voice, The song in your face. I am thrown into compliant adoration To the wonders of your heart. And I'm not being gushy, I'm being sincere. You're it, baby. You're hot-to-trot.