Warm
Wyomin’ Weddin’
Copyright©2000,
Michael Sorbonne Robinson
My gal, Faith, she’s like a rosebud,
with a fragrance, rich and pure,
and I feel my heart a glowin’ as
she warms me to the core.
She’s the force that hoists my sun aloft
and moves the birds to sing
and we’re gonna have a warm,
Wyomin’ weddin’ in the spring.
But
the winter’s sorely bleak here, and Faith’s far away in town,
and
the temper’ture’s a plungin' as the flakes are whirlin’ roun’.
But
beyond the blizzard’s bluster, is the joy that Faith’ll bring,
when
we celebrate our warm, Wyomin’ weddin’ in the spring.
The
wind's a howlin’ from the North, an’ it’s gettin’ mighty mean,
and
the stack of pinion, that I'd chopped, is lookin’ purdy lean.___
So
I take the note Faith wrote me, and I memorize each word.
Then
I kiss that piece of paper, and I worry 'bout the herd.
Now
my wood supply has vanished to a few remainin’ coals,
and
the line shack’s chinking’s old, and snow’s a blowin’ through the
holes,
But
I take the scarf Faith gave me, tear it up and plug some gaps.
Then
I blow a few faint coals while
snuggin’ up my slicker flaps.
I’m
a-shiv’rin’ cold, yet warm inside, and
feelin’ like a king,
'cause
we’re gonna have a warm, Wyomin’ weddin’ in the spring.
With
the dreams of Faith, I’m happy, though the final embers dim.
I
ignite her precious love note, hum a final quiv’rin’ hymn.
Several
times I think it’s easin’ but the storm is here to stay--
knees
too stiff to bend and lips and hands too numb to even pray.
All
is dark, and yet I’m warmed...It’s to Faith’s mem’ry that I cling,