Truckers' and Others Poems & Poetry

I wished that I could float away into your arms tonight,
being a trucker's mate is so hard to be-but to be with you when I can,
I guess, I just have to dream of you until then.

For when I hear that big truck now, I won't cringe at the sound,
for it will be coming and not going away from me.

Just to hear that big diesel and the air release and it jek into a still
position and see you climb out will send chills of joy through me.

But until your runs are complete, I must hold our last kiss, our last rush
to ecstasy firmly in my heart as my strength till we touch again.

Eighteen wheels, bring my love home, safe, sound, and soon.

Copyright ©2004 Penny Rogers