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Donna's Poems
Grace of a Texan
by Donna Flood

Hours have been frittered away on hair,
Colors from bottle from ebony to fair.

One girl with wit said, "subject to change,"
When she was complimented on the range.

The shade I love most of all
Is what is blond of platinum's call.

Gives me such a thrill when someone asks
Is that real or does it come from a flask?

In my mind I walk back to Texan's day,
When those lanky gentlemen who at play.

"Wah Mam! I do appreciate the premature."
To which one has to be just demure.

As a southern girl can turn a compliment,
Maybe out loud she spoke not to the gent,

Of how he stood so tall and proud,
Easy leaning back still riding White Cloud.

With boots throwing his shoulders at grace,
Sun setting strength on his face.

One must admit the Texans have it,
When it comes to setting the bit.

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