Dreaming of Texas
Dreaming of Texas
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Good to have had danced many dances and knew a lot of laughter. A good life isn’t the money in the bank. It is the wealth of memories we have gained.
I felt a present near. I looked-up and my auburn hair beauty girl was watching me write. She introduced herself as Doreen from Austin and requested my name. I told her my name is Johnnie. Lost Michigan man drinking the good drink of Texas. She gave me a sweet smile and told me. Here in Texas. We don’t mix the drinks. We like the whiskey hard and men who can dance the proper two-step. No time for sad poetry here in Texas. The music is good, the night is young and you need to leave regret in the dust.
I ordered two double shots of Jack Daniels and some cold tap beer. She was wearing a cotton blouse, two buttons free and a short skirt making me wish I was brave and crazed again. She asked are you Michigan boys willing to dance? Maybe you are scared of us Texas woman?
I told her it would be my honor to dance with her and I do fear the Texas woman. They are beautiful, dangerous and fearless women. A wise man need to be careful. She smiled and told me. I like you. You are honest and direct. You are right to know some fear. When a Texas woman decide what she wants. No man is safe.
We danced the two-step and the waltz till the 2am hour approached. She told me she was going to be a nurse and wrote story. I told her I was a soldier and didn’t know nothing but paper and pen. Poetry and story was my only true goal.
I followed her back to Austin. We sat by the river drinking beer being cooled down by the Austin river. I held her tightly as we waiting for dawn. She told me. Please Johnnie, write me a poem?
Hot and steamy Texas nights.
Good booze and company.
Hot nights need cold beer and beautiful Texas dreams.
You are my keeper of hope and happiness
The fragrant of your skin make me wild and loco.
Please love me little and love me long.
Tonight is here and tomorrow may come.
We need to create a lullaby with a happy ending.
Doreen smiled and she told me. Damn good poetry. I want you to write more poetry for me. Maybe we can change black love to white love. Old regret to forgotten memories. I like my Grandma old wise saying. “Better to open the door to love and friendship than wallow in things we cannot repair. Playing dead leave you waiting for nothing.” She turned around and kissed me, then she asked. Time to find some breakfast food. A new day was coming.
Me and my Texas girl roamed the city. She didn’t promise me tomorrow. She did promise me today.