Cowboy Cuntry Poem by Mary Champion

His voice was like dark treacled honey,
and he spoke in a soft Western drawl,
with echoes of wide open spaces
where eagles and ecstasy call.
He captured my heart in an instant
as I followed a wild hopeless dream
to a place I did not belong in,
where I couldn't fit into his scheme.
His voice was as deep as the ocean-,
as it strummed on the strings of desire.
My heart could not offer resistance -
it still burns with the fierce prairie fire.