My Darling,

     If you were living here in Texas with me, rather in that big cold city so far away, we wouldn't be so alone. We wouldn't feel such emptiness in our lives, our hearts, our beds, for our love would have a welcome gentle home. Sure, it would be a slower less exciting pace, but one with a constant gentle hand. Go to the airport and climb into that plane that will fly you away, come to me my darling and let love have it's way!

     If you would only hear my voice as I cry out your name in my sleep; and you could hear my voice on the pillow next to your's it would mean so very much. But it seems I have no choice in my heart wrenching pain because that city still holds you firm in it's intoxicting grasp. If you only reached out to me in the night, and I could feel you near me in this now empty bed I wouldn't be afraid of the dark loneliness of my life, and I wouldn't shed these nightly tears.

     If you were living here in Texas with me, you could kiss tears from my eyes and once again share your warm embrace. I'd have so much more than fading memories of your loving face, the feel of your smooth skin, the laughter in your eyes. If you were lying here would that really be so wrong, is there some hidden danger in love of which I am un-aware? Where is the sin inside the music you brought into my soul...

~ Dave ~

Mail To The Cowboy Night Writer

NEXT      BACK      HOME

© 2001-2010 Dave ~ Cowboy Night Writer

PalletMaster's Workshop®.

"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."