THE PREACHER AND HIS WIFE?

I took 'em for a Preacher and his wife, 
dressed in their finery and all.
I was checkin' some fence, being finished
with shipping that fall.
Traffic on these sandy ranch roads around
Childress was normally light,
Fact is seein' any automobile out here was 
really an odd sight
I could see that feller was some agitated
as I rode on in
"Howdy pard.." says I, "..reckon as though
you could be use a friend?"
I ground tied ol' Donny and stepped off
in the hot Texas sand,
And turned to see a row of smiling teeth
and the man's extended hand.
I learned they'd gotten lost and one of them
casin's had gone down plumb,
To top it off the jack was busted, so they
were both a little glum.
He weren't too resourceful, though appearing
to be a capable sort,
Things hadn't gone right for them today and
his patience was a little short.
I got a couple of cedar posts and a rock, and
jacked up that new coupe',
Then turned the flat changing over to him,
he wanted to earn his pay.
Me and the missus set up a conflab, and she
professed to be a poet,
And just in case I didn't believe her, she was
plenty glad to show it.
She produced a passel of old papers from a
crumpled brown folder,
Readin' of thoughts about everything from
pain to growing older.
Truth was her verse was a little disjointed, but
then I ain't no scholar,
Just an old wore out bowlegged cowboy
trying to earn a dollar.
Well along about then the feller had that
new V-8 ready to roll,
So they hustled around, loaded up, and in the
Process..bless my soul,
When he shook my hand he left therein a brand
new hunnerd' dollar bill!
Now..I ain't never seen one much less own one,
so it was quite a thrill.
I tried to refuse but he wouldn't have it, insisting
I'd eased his way.
So I stuck that c-note in my shirt pocket, 
set to finish the day,
When for final chit-chat I asked their name,
as I mounted up ol' Donny
"Barrow", says he "Just call me Clyde, the poet
over there is Bonnie".
 

Steppin' off that gelding, I could see there
was trouble on the home front.
Her shoulders were squared to mine, no doubt
I'd soon be bearing the brunt.

God she was gorgeous, her long blonde hair 
out shown the sun a mite.
There were tears, I could see them shimmer
in the evening's dying light.

It was evident her graceful fingers were
trembling as I grew close,
And I pondered what distress had caused 
her emotional overdose.

How long had she been waiting..could our love
recover from this plight?
I know it's tough for her, with me gone all day,
sometimes through the night.

Running the place took time from her, and
occasionally dang the cost.
I could see I'd shore have to weather 'this'
storm, or likely dang the loss.

The closer I got, I marveled how small she was,
although she was tough.
I'll never understand where women get their
inner strength and stuff.

I could hear her crying softly now, her fair
face a terrible sight.
Whatever the wreck, it would test my skills to
make this problem right.

She ran to me and buried her face in my chest.
knowin' she was secure,
I held her close, and it was enough, standing 
quietly she would endure.

I lifted her angelic face and kissed 
away a lingering tear,
"Don't fret your pretty head darlin', it's all right 
now..Grandaddy's here."

© 1999 David Kelley.  All Rights Reserved