Waking Up With A Woody Poem by Cowboy Ron Williams

I wake up with a woody
almost every night.
Sometimes I think a lesser man
would simply die of fright.

The thing is just enormous;
I can't believe its size,
worthy to be envied
by all the other guys.

I don't remember dreaming,
'cept maybe of Marie,
and Gladys, LeeAnn, Caroline,
Rosette, and Annalee.

I suffer from these woodies,
but please don't pity me.
Somehow I'll last, and be okay.
I will survive; you'll see.