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Dreaming Again
From the old rockin’ chair
came the sound of his snores
that rattled the windows
and vibrated the doors
She looked o’er her glasses
but kept counting her stitch
as she watched his feet jerk
and his hands start to twitch
She knew he was dreaming
‘bout them places he’d been
Was out riding the grass
cross the highline again
She’d heard all his stories
knows most of them are true
Been little on the range
that her cowboy didn’t do
He had grown a fine herd
carved a ranch out of rock
Raised a passel of kids
that now care for the stock
Fought many harsh winters
to keep his dream alive
Spent countless holidays
out on some cattle drive
Had fought wolves, drought, and fire
blizzards and flooding rain
Busted broncs and some bones
not once did he complain
Always managed to find
a bit extra to give
He had paid well his dues
for this good life they live
Always held his head high
through those sorrows and pain
Said if he had a do-over
he’d do it that way again
Copyright ©
Jerry Brotherton
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