My Driver

You turn the key and ignite my spark plugs.

Is this surge of energy I feel called love?

As you buckle my heart and tune to my station,

My body hums low with acceleration.

You can't see through me and you complain

You are trouble and to me a strain.

You wipe my face free of the tears I shed

And you smile about the dry road ahead.

This is our love, how it goes and works-

Without your care, I squeak and I jerk.

As long as I feel good, you should know

That at your bidding I will stop or go.

If we need to turn, no need for the words-

Just direct me and I have heard.

Where will I go if you won't come inside

My world and enjoy the ride?

Where will you go, my dear, without me?

We can go anywhere, but you have the key. . .