Boots, Love, and alien diplomacy
Boots, Love, and Alien Diplomacy
My love is five five, a sturdy delight,
With eyes like warm coffee just kissed by the night.
His hair oh, it's brown, but wait, there's a glint,
Silver like stardust, a celestial hint.
A soldier, he stands with a mission in mind,
So set in his ways, he's a rare, stubborn kind.
His socks hide a secret, though not so discreet,
Dear God, those are feet I just don’t want to meet.
He says certain phrases that rattle my brain,
Like “irregardless” I twitch from the strain.
But then he appears with my door swung wide,
Pulls out my chair like a 1940s guide.
He’s not one for roses or moonlight or art,
But somehow, this man has completely my heart.
He’ll wrestle the monsters that lurk in my head,
And still keep the Wi-Fi and toddlers both fed.
He parents with strength and a soft, steady hand,
Though he once tried to “fix” me with duct tape and sand.
He’s mine and he’s real and he’s terribly true
A man who’s got honor, and barbecue too.
But one night it shifted this poem takes a turn,
Because love isn’t boring, and neither’s this burn.
Aliens landed right there in our yard,
Demanding Earth's leader, their tone pretty hard.
My soldier stood firm, in his socks full of holes,
And challenged their captain in Intergal roles.
He argued for Earth with his militant pride,
While I rolled my eyes from the passenger side.
They said, “We’ll spare Earth, we can see he’s devout,”
Then winced as he shouted his catchphrase, “No doubt!”
They flew off in fear his feet made them flee,
And somehow, he’d saved both the planet and me.
So here is my ode to the man that I love,
More grounded than gravity, stars up above.
He may not recite Shakespeare under the moon,
But he’ll fight off invaders and grill me a spoon.
A hero. A father. My foot funky knight.
A man who won’t kiss but will hold me so tight.
So hold my breath for romance? Okay, that’s a chore
But he’ll open the car door, and I couldn’t want more.
Copyright ©
JRE JRE
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