The Hole-in-the-Wall Heart


                                           THE HOLE-IN-THE-WALL-HEART
           
                  Pardner, once, there was a Safe place by day.  Cactus dry, dust hot, coyote lonely, windblown and grit-in-yer-teeth hard to find.
           
                 By starshot night t’was deep, cool, crystal pools and greenness, sprayed with the beauty and hopes of True Love and Dreams kept.

                 It was the place my Hole-in-the-Wall-Heart hid from the Outlaws of Love and the Lawmen of Passions.   My hiding place from Dreams spent.

                One day, on weary horse rode close in a tall fair stranger, looking like nothin' but the loner he was, dusty, maybe lost.    He made camp, lit a night fire, stayed a while.

                 My cowgirl heart, a dreamer, with mah guns drawn, hid out in my hide-e-hole, ready to melt into the rocks.   I watched, wary and disbelieving.

                The loner's fire cast familiar, dancing, warming shadows on the cool of my hiding place, and he seemed friendly enough.   I took a chance, stepped out into his firelight.   Dropped mah guns.

                Small talk, easy going down, sideways glances, then a wary parting.   I melted into the night and went my way.   "He'll leave, like all the rest, who come and can't find the way in,"  I thought.   But he didn't leave.

                Next thing, shots fired, ambush!!  I was roped... tied!  His steely eyes drawn down as I lay, willing, helpless to flee or fight.    Some loner!  (Knew the way in. How'd he do that?)

               My reluctant Renegade heart was bound with ropes of passion, not cold, but hot and glowing.    It felt good to be a prisoner.  How can this be?

              Slung me across his saddle.  Then, as sure as if he'd been this way before, he rode deep into my Hole-in-the-Wall-Heart, beyond cool caution, sharpshooter sentinels, to the bullet-shot middle of my Everything.

                Into the Safe place, where Dreams Kept and True love sat dusty over a bottle of stolen Whiskey Love and bet on my hide.   The loner sat down, smiling.
           
               They never knew what hit 'em!    He won, hands down, no gun drawn, no badge, no bounty.    Just deadly soft kisses, warm breath on my neck, heart-spoken words.  Weapons that Outlaws and Lawmen aren't supposed to use.

               The Hole-in-the-Wall-Heart was his at last and he stayed.   Beneath the starshot sky where Dreams Kept and True Love used to hide out, afraid of being killed...  but now fearless, tranquil.

               He pulled in the starshot sky, breathed in the cool night, nestled in the greenness, in the desert dreams that were my Everything.   Dreams of the love I thought I had to hide from...  In my Hole-in-the-Wall-Heart.

                               Some loner, how’d he do that?
My youngest Cowboy on Shimmers, about 15 years ago.  (Austin)

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