Wed. Jun 12th, 2024

(c) By Vickey Stamps

She cooked salt pork and grits in her special way
‘Fore he saddled his horse to do ranching that day
T’was still pretty dark, the day being brand new
The stars was still out. The sky weren’t yet blue

She got her some coffee, sat and rocked for awhile
In her womb was a new child. The thought made her smile

She longed for a daughter to share lonely days
To make pretty clothes for, to teach women’s ways

She got up, scrubbed the floor, got the bread making done
While keeping an eye on their much loved young son

She peeled up some spuds, snapped some green beans
Washed up her sweetheart a clean shirt and jeans

She made up a chicken and dumpling stew,
She knowed he’d be hungry when his long day was through

She brushed up her hair, let it hang down low
Cause she knowed he loved how she’d let it grow

When he come riding up she’d be by the door
Right grateful God brought him home once more

She knowed he loved her. His eyes told her so
In the way they watched her, the warmth of their glow

She rejoiced in the way he would play with their son
No matter his tireness when the days work was done

He would wait for the ‘kick’ of their unborn babe
As they lay in the bed he once had made

Yeah, she kept mighty busy, this ranch mans wife
But she wouldn’t have wanted no other life.


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