If True Love Remains

She claims to be a gypsy and that her heart is far from gold.

You claim you’ve always loved her and then you set her free to roam.

She’s never known one like you

And she has never had a home,

But it’s clear to see her heart belonged with yours all along.

And if your love remains after time has changed the moon

You need only call her name; her heart will know the tune.

She will be yours forever as long as you leave her untamed

And you will always be her modern Will James.

Summer Air

A warm breeze blows in tangled hair

It smells of summer nights, warm and fair

Whispering memories in her ear

Of lightening bugs and fishing bells jingling

Swing dancing and people singing

Guitar picking and fireside drinking

Sun-tanned skin and night’s cool wind.

Whiskey Poetry

You’re drinking in the whorehouse tonight. I’m writing poetry: whiskey words and tear stained ink. I’m a dumbass for thinking I deserve more than I need. But whose there to blame when it comes down to inked up words and whiskey tears spilling down my cheeks.


I’ve thought about calling you up, but I change my mind. We said our goodbyes and now is not the time. It’s lonely out here on these Wyoming plains, but I’m the one who ran so I’m the one to blame. Amidst missing you, I love it out here. I can only hope that one day it’ll be your truck that I hear; hell, I’d be content with your voice on the telephone. Just anything to know that I left a mark like the one you left on my heart.