Twirling, swirling, belting out a tune. Voice of an angel, heart of pure gold. Entrraptured ranch hands, cowboys and clerks, stand up clapping, on high alert. Out of place, one of a kind. The songstress from the East, driving them out of their minds. Meanwhile, behind the scenes, barmaids whisper, feeling mean. She’s stealing our men, taking what’s ours. We can’t have this, she’s gone to far. She must be stopped, for crying out loud……
Tag: Peacefulness
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Wearing heart attack boots, walking, somewhat aloof. Considering this, disregarding that. Remembering her face, wondering where she’s at. Is she happy in her place, has she accepted her fate? Thoughts I cannot control, questions I need not know….
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Beautiful blue, wonderful too. Walking hand in hand, just me and you. Laughing at nothing, feelings so deep. Gazing lazily, smiling crazily……Girl, you make everything complete………
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Snapping his fingers, demanding attention. Pig gives orders, Twig sits and listens. Do as I say, I know it all. Twig complies, does as she’s told. No mind of her own. What a shame, only herself to blame……..
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Ezra and I in the woods, she’s sniffing every thing she sees……chasing squirrels, barking loudly…..she’s very brave, strutting proudly……sitting on a stump for rest, she is there, she’s the best……
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I am what I am, I don’t fight it anymore. Say what you will, I’m aware of the score. Call me any name, I’ll take the blame. Cast your doubts, hurl them about. I find it amusing, your pointless abusing. Hilarious truth causing friction, it’s not true, it’s Fiction…….
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sweet fire keeping us warm, power out after the storm…..suddenly lights flicker and blink, gurgling from the kitchen sink….power back on, furnace roars to life. Ezra and I full of delight 😊……..
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A question of answers, the reasons unknown. Unwanted facts, nefarious acts. Riddles and rhymes play with the mind. Confusion, delusion, of a terrified kind. Ambiguous reaction, unwarranted actions. Solicited madness, sadness defined…….
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Forty-five miles south of Colorado Springs. In a dimly lit pub named “The Coyotes Den”. Five nights a week, more often than not. The songstress sang ballads, played piano, stole hearts. Cowboys rode in from miles around, hooting and howling as she sang her songs. Nevertheless, only one thing on her mind, the banjo player she left behind……
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Lips of honey, sweet like candy. My oh my, she is dandy. My sweet tooth is in a frenzy, needing a fix, driving me crazy. I’ll never get enough of her sugary kisses. She’s obviously the answer to all of my wishes……..
Escape Reality 