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Johnny was a
country-boy,
And Kate was from the city,
He was young and handsome,
And she was really pretty
He was
mending fences,
And she was doing the same,
She saw him, and he saw her,
Now everything would change.
The fence
he fixed was physical,
With large barbed wire strands,
He stretched the wire and set the nails,
With rough and calloused hands.
Her fence
was deep inside her heart,
But broken, just the same,
For she had left the one she loved,
And each was pointing blame.
But on
the way to mend her fence,
She stopped to ask directions,
And when she looked into his eyes,
She saw her own reflection.
Reflection of a young lost child,
With tears upon her face,
His parents said that she was wrong,
And they had been disgraced.
But
talking to this country-boy,
She knew that he was different,
He showed respect and lots of charm,
She loved him in an instant.
Now that
was twenty years ago,
Their fence, now made of pickets,
A small white house in the country-side,
And a love that knows no limits.
by David Ronald Bruce Pekrul
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