Welcome!

This site is brand new and I've posted several of my writings to get you started. Be sure and check back often, I will be adding more writings on a regular basis so there will always be something new for you to enjoy.

I live for your comments so be sure and let me know what you think of my writings. There is an area for you to make comments under each entry, I look forward to hearing from you!

I've written up a short bit about myself, so you can read a little about me and understand the background for my stories a little more.

Enjoy the site!

Toward the West

He was a cowboy - not the bronc -
bustin' kind
But he was a cowboy, at least
in his mind
His idea of dressup was a brown
western suit
And a fresh coat of polish on his
cowboy boots.

Even the weddin' didn't alter
his style
Boots were aclackin' as he walked
down the aisle
His bride stood proudly in her
Sunday best
The rev-rend prayed aptly -- their
marriage be blessed.

His old pick-up rolled them away
toward the sun
For a life punctuated with
laughter and fun.
Some leather, some denim, and some old
songs to sing.
They grew old together with life's
simpler things.

Now she sits on the front pew,
a wipin' her eyes.
Those boots that he loved so,
now point to the skies
The body lies sleepin' in a
satiny gray
But the cowboy once in it, up and
rode away.

"Take hope dear beloved," the kind
rev-rend said.
"The soul lives forever - just the body
is dead"
If we shall be faithful, then we shall
be blessed
To meet this old cowboy - in Heaven -
"toward the West."

Higher and Higher

I'm learning to sail, higher and higher.
I'm ascending on wings of desire.
My love for the Bridegroom glows like a fire
And lifts me up, higher and higher.

Gravity has held me close to this earth.
I've felt its grip, even since birth.
But I'm getting set free by the Blood and the Fire.
My spirit and soul are going higher and higher.

I'm learning to sail, higher and higher.
Inspired by the voice of the Heavenly Choir.
They sing of a City, clothed in white attire,
And I hear the call, "Come higher and higher."

I Am The Bread

I was ground in the mill of suffering, made moist by the waters of sorrow, baked in the oven of Hell, to come forth well done and well able to feed the soul of man.

Texas

"Who am I?" you say,
"Why, I'm Texas!"

I'm Barbeque
I'm grits

I'm wisteria
I'm a lazy muddy river

I'm a magnolia tree
I'm the Alamo

I'm the giant magnolia
I'm antebellum homes

I'm moss
I'm honeysuckle

I'm Robert E. Lee
I'm paddleboats and log rafts

I'm brush arbors
I'm boots and wide brimmed hats

I'm smoked ham, biscuits, and possum-grape jelly
I'm watermelon in a tub of ice

I'm bluegrass music
I'm cactus

I'm a drawl
I'm fields of cotton, fields of roses, and fields of bluebonnets.

I'm an oil derrick
I'm ice tea in a mason jar

I'm a fiddle
I'm a rusty cannon on the courthouse lawn

I'm a rusty cannon ball by the front porch steps
I'm the San Antonio Rose

I'm homemade peach ice cream
I'm a mailbox with the flag up

I'm a patriot!
I'm a Christian!

I'm a southern gentleman!
And for all this, I make no apologies!