I was Plow boy dumb, pure country hick,
Never thought what made a woman tick.
I was plow boy dumb and worldly slow,
Just turned eighteen, when she said, "hello".
Put on my best fake Paul Newman grin,
And a poorer version of James Dean's chin;
With that, she was totally taken in.
But for whatever reason, I could never see,
Why on earth she could adore me.
But she was the best that would ever be.


God's palette brushed her in sweet confection,
And Mona Lisa's 'la belle' perfection.
Straw blond hair and sky blue eyes,
A gaze that could leave me memorized.
I was dirt farm poor and plow boy bright,
Yet she saw me as her shining knight.
With no qualms, she gave her love to me.
She was the best that could ever be.



I needed her more than I needed air.
A Craving hunger that was hard to bare.
But in woman's ways I had no clue,
Till our yearning minds took our bodies cue.



With a passion that we could not disguise,
'neath a lover's moon and raven skies.
Her throaty sighs and mewing cries
In a meadow ablaze by fire flies.
Shown trembling breasts and quaking thighs
All throbbing to be worldly wise.
With Southern Comfort on our lips,
Teasing bites and sensual nips,
Blue jean refusing to unzip,
Her nipples sweet as honeydew,
That magic night embraced us two.
Like pounding surf upon the shore
She took my hand, helped me explore,
A world we'd never been before.
I swore on life itself that she
Was the best t'was ever known to me





So plow boy dumb in women's ways
Though she could set my heart ablaze
I thought she'd stay with me always.
But youthful love erodes, decays.
I was bound to warrior's dreams
Of parachutes and war machines
Of guns and bugles, shot and shell,
Long absences she couldn't stomach well.


She followed me from shore to shore
her earnest pleas. I'd just ignore
while I chased 'round my soldier's lore;
till one day she would take no more.
Took for granted from the start
she drove off---I fell apart
For when she left she took my heart.
Like the haunting verse of Bobby McGee
I let the best thing get away from me.


Now crumbling body, silvered hair
a whiskey glass and a rocking chair
Each drink a nail of crucifixion
of self guilt for selfish dereliction.
a shot of booze to fantasize
now much too late to apologize.
A silver mark's just come to pass
been fifty years since I've seen her last.
Five decade gone but I still see
those sweet blue eyes grab hold of me.


I'd give up life if I could see
her one more time in front of me.
Just once to stroke her flaxen hair,
see her lips lift my despair;
and smell her soap, inhale her scent
her blue eyes full of merriment.
Instead I mire in sad memoir,
for God and time's not healed this scar.


On my porch, alone, on a moon lit night
I 'll see a meadow ablaze with fire fly light.
And wish I'd feel your presences near,
feel your breath warm on my ear.
Though you've passed, your memories hold
like a CD stuck on repeat mode.
Straw blond hair and eyes of blue
that could suck the heart right out of you.
I swear right now, to God above
You were the only thing I ever loved.
And I feel a tear run down--you see

You were the best, the very best, that could ever be.

12/10/2008

Posted on 12/10/2008
Copyright © 2026 Fredrich Mohre