He was sun-scorched, flame-torched
stood tall, strong as a brick wall
loose-hipped, well equipped
in for the count, without a doubt
expert tracked, surprise packed
spurs jangled, wild mustang wrangled
I should have, could have
but I was lost, dust-bowl tossed; in Trouble!
In a mess, I confess
as he turned, my body burned
fanned my face, acting chaste
he was endearing, God-fearing
a lop-sided smile, immaculate styled
I could have run, fired my gun
but I only choked, when he spoke,
he was ice cool, me more the fool; he's Trouble!
He tipped his hat, steel-grey eyes of a cat
heavy lidded, my heart skidded,
he said, 'Maam?', took my hand
his cornfield hair, his unnerving stare
I might have, right have
high-tail, hit the trail
the preacher grins, there's all my kin
now side-by-side, my downhill slide; into Trouble!
All curtailed, I in veil
'Do you take?, my mistake?
white wedding gown, two hearts pound
next the ring, my clammy skin
my Pa's tears, must squelch my fears
all too late, more my fate
the thrown rice, last minute advice
my Mama's bliss, that sweet kiss; of Trouble!
Blushing bride, our buggy ride
all alone, our log cabin home
white picket fence, it all makes sense
just me and you, the mountain's view
angels singing up above, it must be love
carried past the oven door, need I say more?
a four-poster bed, enough said
'What a Man!', to our life plan; without Trouble!
Copyright © Jane Richer