My Texas Nights



And to my friends who still live in Texas. Don’t give it up. Never go away. You have no idea what you have. And if you absolutely must go, never let it go.



Sounds of cicadas buzz around me
The smell of fresh-cut hay does surround me
Home of a sizzling daytime sun and sticky, starry nights
Prairies glowing bright even in the dark of night

Night roses blooming
Horses grooming
Under the cloak of night
Illuminated by a silvery moon delight

Dewberries glistening
Pecan trees swaying
Growing all right
During the dead of night

Field mice wrestling
Salamanders listening
Waiting for the break of dawn
To run and burrow deep under the lawn

Gentleness against my skin
Draping herself around my shins
She touches my arm
Breezing by my cheek without alarm

She whispers in my ear
And, oh, how it tickles dear
A sweet breath of air
I never had need to despair

Rustling leaves sing as they shuffle
Promising my life will be free of bustle
Grazing under a moonlit front
Cattle low and grunt

Spider spinning her web
Pinning bugs dead
Night birds crooning tranquil tunes
Under the Texas moon

Inching worms and slithering snakes
All the hungry bunnies shake
Nibbling on tomatoes, eating lush
Let’s all hide with our bounty under prickly brush

Croaking frog
And barking dog
Tomcat mewing on nigh
Oh how we all love the sugary-smelling night

Staring up at the Milky Way
With my child eyes, I pray
Please, God, I never want it to go away
I want life to always be this way

Go away it never did as I prayed
It was me who didn’t stay
Restless youth bid go
God, if I had only known

Now-a-days, I recall it, dreaming
Summoning a child’s moon, beaming
On the fields of my youth
That are now all gone…Poof!

In my memory lives on
My Texas nights

Copyright 2014 Wanda S. Paryla



(This rambling is an entry from my personal journal from Thursday, 10/9/14.)

As you can see, I’ve missed some days of journal-ing. I am very disappointed. I wanted to fulfill my blog-a-day for October. I love October. Anyway, I’ve been sick. It’s nothing new. My colon, the son-of-a-bitch, is trying to kill me. It’s like it has a mind of its own.

Regardless, I know it will more than likely be my fate at the end of a long road.

So, mostly my idea is to only write in this journal on weekdays. Why? I don’t know. Maybe because I feel like it. I can do whatever I want. Why not? The rest of the world’s doing it.

Yep. People are doing whatever the fuck they feel like. I sure miss that Texas dirt road that I grew up on. I miss those chickens pecking around the yard, cows lowing, and the sound of crickets at night.

I miss singing with Blue Joe. I miss Tex and Lucky. I miss my quiet childhood. Sometimes I long for 1980 in our house on that beige and red sandy road.


Red dirt road


I miss the hot winds
Blowing sand devils around
The breezes now gone

Long days come and gone
Hot Texas sun gone down
Cold is here to stay

Spider, spin your web
Take me back to that dirt road
Rusty earth baked hard


Thanks for reading!