Darlin' Phaedra,
Our trail homeward has begun.
We'll be punchin' hoofs in
Texas again ‘fore autumn winds
Start blowin' o'er the prairie.
By your birthday night I promise
To breathe Austin air, clean and combed.
Be at our grove by the little river,
Cleanse my dusty heart by your wondrous sight.
Till then, I'll just sing more to myself,
And ‘ole Stamper, while watchin' this
Trail unwind like your golden tresses,
Shimmerin' in the moonlight.
Yours Truly,
William
No comments:
Post a Comment