Rhinestones and Curls

Shimmering in the saddle,
Like a summertime magnolia,
Or a shiny red apple that hangs,
A little too high on the tree for me.

I try to turn my smile away,
But I cannot unlock my eyes,
From the star shine of her curls,
And easy flow of her saddle rhythm.

As I sit up from my dream,
I know I’ll be a wreck today,
Remembering the vision,
Of a hat, full of that girl.