Little Matters

I like a woman

Who wears perfume

Elegant but inexpensive clothes

As much as one who can kill

A plain tee and blue jeans

I like a woman

Who can drive a stick-shift

Pick-up truck

As well as one who can ride

A bike or a scooter

I like a woman

Who can wear a prudish

Long dress

As much as I would

One who wears a prurient skirt

I like a woman

Who doesn't flinch

At the recoil of a 45ACP

As much as one who can drive

A tack with a fletchette

I like a woman

Who'd carry a blade on her hip

Parry a blow with her bare hands

And knock a guy down

But patch him up after

I like a woman

Who can wear pumps

As much as she'd be comfy

In sneakers

Or jungle boots

I like a woman

Who can fix up a good meal

Handy in the garden

Caring for the kids

And tidy around the house

I like a woman

Who can listen to me

Whine about the world

Or wax poetic

When my mind wanders

I like a woman

Who lets me take care of her

As much as she attends to me

At times when I can't 

Do that much for myself

I like a woman

Who would sit still with me

As we watch a sunset

While sipping wine or cold beer

On a warm summer afternoon

I like a woman

Who can tell me

Things aren't so bad

Even as my world 

Seems to crumble

I like a woman

Who could be as manly 

As a marine in country

Yet feminine 

Under my touch

I like a woman

Who can be risqué 

In the boudoir 

A pussycat

To the world 

But a tiger

In private

But mostly

I like a woman

Simply because

She likes me

And everything 

There is about me

It matters little

What she's done

Where she's been

Or what she believes in

It matters less

How she looks

Or how she chooses

To dress

Or speak

Or think

It matters only

That I matter

Only to her.