Hanging Up The Holster

Spic and span,

clean as a whistle.

I’m a quick draw with my pistol,

a real straight shooter, I am.

Fully loaded, fully equipped,

I pack a punch, if you get my drift.

Pumping like a well oiled machine,

there’s a load in my magazine.

When I aim, I don’t even have to try,

dead center, it’s a bulls-eye.

I can hit the mark,

like a ball, right out of the park.

I’m a sure shot,

toss a coin, hit it on the spot.

If you’re a damsel in distress,

I’m at you’re service, I got what you need.

I’ll deliver the goods, I aim to impress,

your satisfaction is guaranteed.

My homes been on the range,

but I’m looking for a change;

time to hang up the holster.

Kick the boots off to the floor,

get them off, get it on, and go for more.

I feel the heat, it’s starting to smolder,

admiring someone so fine,

I’m retiring just on time.

 

 

© 2015  Kathleen Stefani and Combing The Catacombs
Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express written permission from the site’s author is strictly forbidden.
Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to, Kathleen Stefani and Combing The Catacombs, with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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