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The Angel Wore A Stetson



Out of the mist she came in a rush,
her eyes sparkling and her cheeks flushed,
a smile on her face and a sparkle in her eye,
one look at her and the world could see why.
The angel wore a stetson.

Flying in the breeze her mane of gold,
the mighty steed onto which her knees did hold,
guiding his way with her soft gentle touch,
doing what... she loved so much.
The angel wore a stetson.

Free as a bird without a care,
feeling the breeze in her long flowing hair,
the sun on her face, no clouds in the sky,
there was no question of where, when or why.
The angel wore a stetson.

The wide open spaces, without worries or cares,
ignoring the people with their open stares,
she rode for the thrill of the moment that was,
and if ever asked why, her answer...because.
The angel wore a stetson.