Romance, Not Marriage
When handsome and shouting cowboys flirt
with gorgeous gals galloping on wild horses,
they won't catch up despite their manliness:
women know what they are after and resist.
The mid-August sun is scorching, and dust rises
amid rust canyons, making trails of their escape;
youth is precious to them, and these girls seek romance,
not marriage to bear many children and feed their mouths.
We see romance blossoming between two roses,
expressing anxiety and their longing for kisses;
and the only time they cry is when brief showers
from the South pelt on their gleaming petals.
When small brooks gargle down steep, rough boulders,
the dehydrated hunters take a break while cicadas creep;
and doing so they lose their catch and indulge in daydreams:
soothing shade is tempting, they lower their hats and fall asleep.
There are no snowfalls in arid deserts, and that infuriated explorers
seeking gold to be carved out of the Colorado and Arizona hills;
young ladies sought romance, not marriage, which demanded trust,
and whenever tough times came, they weren't willing to pay the cost.
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2025
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment