NO SECOND CHANCES

NO SECOND CHANCES
​by Donna Penley


The cowboy sat at the bunkhouse table and stared at the empty sheet
Outside the wind whipped the trees around, and the skies were spittin’ sleet

Hand poised in mid-air held a pencil stub and the oil lamp sputtered a song
He’d vowed to put a thought on paper that had bothered him e’er so long

The fact  that he, like some folks, had tossed away good friends
With the thought that something better or richer lies around life’s bend

He then wrote of a girl he’d loved and left back in old Santa Fe
And admitted his heart still ached for her each and every day

He wrote of the good horse he’d lost on a drive, and how it had been his fault
And how no other horse had ever come close to havin’ Roanie’s salt

He remembered a good job he’d lost, down near Boontown
Fired because of some dang foolish thing he’d done on a trip to town

And of the folks and fun he’d left back home,  how hee missed the old barn dances
Of his mother’s love  an’ her pan fried chicken -- and there aint’t no second chances

This task done, he put down the pencil; the storm was beginning to lie
And he vowed to himself that winter’s  night,  from now on he’d really try

To make each day count for the best, like in those dime romances
To keep his friends close, because he now knew --

THERE AIN’T NO SECOND CHANCES!

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