To Don Williams, and thoughts,
Of Maggie's dream,
Floating in his mind.
When did he know Maggie?
His thoughts were first,
Of his beloved mate,
Mornin's at the gas station.
Having children,
A husband and grandchild
She cannot be Maggie.
What deep-seated dream of Maggie,
is coming forth?
Then, a recovered thought,
of a beloved aunt.
His father had but one,
Sister.
Two almost, but one survived not,
birth.
His father's younger brother
often joked,
the wrong one then survived.
Her first marriage was not, good,
Eternal sealing to a faithless man.
The loss of the first three young ones,
Due to a missed court date.
So she found herself a Maggie,
In St. George, Utah.
Cleaning motel rooms,
On occasion, an aged cow-hand,
Came off the range, then into town.
After 20 years of marriage,
a widower was he.
When cleaning the room,
She'd noticed bedroll, chaps,
And fancy Western Shirts.
On learning his name,
a fancy, took she to him,
and soon he, to here, all the more.
Then come fancy restaurants,
and them dolled-up western shirts.
This would be her covenant mate.
Though three and a half decades,
separate their birth,
his children seemed not to mind.
Soon, she became a grandma.
Then came the birth,
of the final child,
a gift from, the Eternal Parents.
A good father and husband was he.
Still, the covenant then waits,
coffee and cigarettes,
are habits hard to break.
Then, reminded was the poet,
on completing father's care,
Then to schedule a sealing,
For his uncle the cow-hand,
And his date.
Served then as proxy,
for the cow-hand, the one,
who learned to regret not,
Maggie's birth.
The poet knows not if, in Heaven,
cows or ponies, there be,
but if there are, he knows,
one happy cow-hand,
and covenant mate.
Steven Bassett
July 2024
