What a price we sometimes pay for faithfulness. My first attempt at an audio file.


Photo by author

(audio)


Wherever you may roam,

this ranch

will always be your home;

And I

Will tend the cows, find the strays,

mend the fence and bale the hay,

pull the weeds and trim the lamp

that lights the garden path –

till you return from there at last,

from wherever you may roam.

 

I write to you from desert lands

where cutting winds blow hard,

the cratered holes were once the farms

and fires the landscape scarred,

the gritty sand fills boots and food

my days are filled with fear;

the guys are great, they’ve got my back

and we know why we’re here,

our flag is high, but honey I want you.

 

Oh how I miss the river, and our

fav’rite swimming hole,

we taught our boy to fish, and where

the berries always grow,

the barn that smells of new-mown hay

and well-oiled leather gear,       

where we made love that final night

‘neath skies so dark and clear….

The feel of home – and honey, I miss you.

 

Wherever you may roam,

this ranch

will always be your home;

and I

will sing your songs,  I’ll tell your tales,

I’ll read your words till all light fails,

I’ll kiss our son, and every night

we’ll hold our hands and pray

until the day that you come home

from wherever you may roam.

 

My skills are needed here, my love,

and duty-bound, I’ll stay,

to free a people strong and proud

from evil’s bitter way;

our blood is dark and red, and mingles

seamlessly with theirs,

they understand our fear,

and so their thanks with us they share…

but this ain’t home, and honey I want you.

 

Oh, how I miss our mountain air

and Sundays after church,

the baby laughing gleefully as

on the step he perched

and strolling hand in hand as gentle

raindrops kissed your brow;

I’d give most anything I had

if I could feel you now….

The feel of home – and honey, I miss you.

 

 

Wherever you may roam,

this ranch

will always be your home;

and I

will wait until this  war is done,

I’ll sing your praise to all or none,

I’ll kiss our son, and every night

we’ll hold our hands and pray

until the day that you come home

from wherever you may roam.

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