maiden fair

his maiden fair asks

that rugged and dusty cowboy

to be her sun,

and in turn he asks that

she be his moon

and those could almost

be vows, spoken in

the cool air of a little

desert church surrounded by

dry grasses and scotch broom

maybe they would be,

could be, just a little further

down the line

and the cowboy finds he likes

the thought of that mighty fine,

like peeling an orange and handing

every other segment to her while

the sunrise paints the sky above

and it’s the love in the little things

that keeps that cowboy

coming back with oranges in

his pockets and a promise

on the tip of his tongue