The Lover’s Almanac 8 June – Burdens

Dear Zazie,  Here is the latest edition of The Lover’s Almanac by Mac Tag.   Are you carryin’ any burdens?  Do they keep you up at night?  Rhett

The Lover’s Almanac

Dear Dark Muse,


Inside the house; a man, restless in bed beside a woman
he just met. She dozes, he lies there listenin’, eyes wide
shut in the dark, no doubt hearin’ Her callin’. He looks
weary with all the burdens he has to carry, or rather, from
the burdens he has created for himself; like the memories
from the trail of broken hearts, the regrets from the choices
made, for love left behind, for bein’ one of the unforgiven
religion. His thoughts fill with shadows gathered from his
past pursuits of fleetin’ pleasures. Above him, the what ifs,
sighs, and questions; suspended, while off in the mountain
night, deep in silence, She awaits there with Her power that
moves through the world and makes his hair stand on end.
She is there, knowin’ a storm will soon sweep down the valley
and knowin’ the answers yet keepin’ them to Herself until……

© 2014 MacTag Cowboy Coleridge All rights reserved

John Everett Millais
John everett millais.jpg

Today is the birthday of John Everett Millais (Southampton 8 June 1829 – 13 August 1896 Kensington); English painter and illustrator who was one of the founders of the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood.



 Photo of Millais, c. 1854

 Mariana, 1851


 Photo assemblage of Millais’ family circa 1870 (compiled by Emily Fane de Salis).
Left to right: Top line Everett Millais; Mrs Emily Millais;
Middle line: J.E, Millais, John Guille Millais; Effie Millais;
Bottom line: Caroline Alice Millais


 Millais later in his career.

 John Everett Millais by Thomas Brock at Tate Britain


Steven John Fromholz
Steven fromholz 2007.jpg

Steven Fromholz at the 2007 Texas Book Festival.

Today is the birthday of Steven John Fromholz (Temple, Texas, June 8, 1945 – January 19, 2014 Eldorado, Texas); American entertainer, singer-songwriter who was selected as the Poet Laureate of Texas for 2007.

I’d Have to Be Crazy

I’d have to be crazy
To stop all my singing
And never play music again

You’d call me a fool
If I grabbed up a top hat
And ran out to flag down the wind

I’d have to be weird
To grow me a beard
Just to see what the rednecks would do

But I’d have to be crazy
Plum out of my mind
To fall out of love with you

Now I know I’ve done weird things
I told people I heard things
When silence was all that abounds

Been days when it pleased me
To be on my knees
Following ants, as they crawled across the ground

I’ve been insane on a train
But I’m still me again
The place where I hold you is true

So I know I’m alright
‘Cause I’d have to be crazy
To fall out of love with you

Now I don’t intend to
But should there come a day
When I say that I don’t love you
You can love me away

I sure would be dingy
To live in an envelope
Waiting alone for a stamp

You’d swear I was loco
To rub for a genie
While burning my hand on the lamp

And I may not be normal
But nobody is
So I’d like to say ‘fore I’m through

I’d have to be crazy
Plumb out of my mind
To fall out of love with you

I’d have to be crazy
Plumb out of my mind
To fall out of love with you

For non-commercial use only.

Man With the Big Hat

In a bar in Arizona
On a sultry summer day
A cowboy came in off the road just to pass the time away
He pulled a stool up to the bar and pushed his hat back on his head
I listened to the stories told, to the words that cowboy said
He said…

“I could tell you stories ’bout the Indians on the plain
Talk about Wells Fargo and the comin’ of the trains
Talk of the slaughter of the buffalo that roamed
Sing a song of settlers come out looking for a home.”

Now, the man with the big hat is buyin’
Drink up while the drinkin’ is free
Drink up to the cowboys a-dead or a-dyin’
Drink to my compadres and me
Drink to my compadres and me

Well, his shirt was brown and faded
And his hat was wide and black
And the pants that once were blue were grey and had a pocket gone in back
He had a finger missin’ from the hand that rolled the smoke
He laughed and talked of cowboy life, but you knew it weren’t no joke
He said…

“I seen the day so hot your pony could not stand
And if your water bag was dry, don’t count upon the land
And winters… I’ve seen winters when your boots froze in the snow
And your only thought was leavin’, but you had nowhere to go


Well, he rested easy at the bar, his foot upon the rail
And laughed and talked of times he’d had out livin’ on the trail
The silence was never broken as the words poured from his lips
Quiet as the forty five he carried on his hip, he said…

“I rode the cattle drive from here to San Antone
Ten days in the saddle, you know, and weary to the bone
I rode from here to Wichita without a woman’s smile
The camp fire where I cooked my beans was the only light for miles


Well, he rolled another cigarette as he turned toward the door
I heard his spurs a jinglin’ as his boot heels hit the floor
He loosened up his belt a notch, pulled his hat down on his head
As he turned to say goodbye to me, this is what he said…

“Now, the high-lines chase the highways, and the fences close the range
And to see a workin’ cowboy – that’s a sight that’s mighty strange.”
But a cowboy’s life was lonely, and his lot was not the best
But if it hadn’t been for men like me, there wouldn’t be no west

© Universal Music Publishing Group
For non-commercial use only.

Mac Tag

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