They used to say a saylor had a girl in every port. They would love them and then leave them. Breaking hearts became a sport.
When looking for a soulmate every girl should be aware. Not every handsome charmer is suave and debonair.
While on a recent road trip I enjoyed the scenes of fall. Times that were forgotten, I started to recall.
I grew up in a place with farms and ranches all around. When harvest time arrived all the combines came to town.
As they rolled along the highway, their arrival long awaited, the farmers waved them in and the young hearts palpitated.
Along with all those combines came all those cute combiners. The girls were heavy handed with lipstick and eyeliners.
As the days turned into weeks things got complicated. The girls fell in love and the guys got twitterpated.
Combiners go from farm to farm and leave out just in time. The girls thought on their fingers, a diamond ring would shine.
The combiners said, honey, there’s nothing here to fear. We’ll talk about it more when I come back next year.
The girls didn’t know that combiners play a game. They never call the girls they meet by their given name.
The combines soon move on and the combiners say honey, I have to go for now and I’ll make us lots of money.
As they rolled on into Murdo, their arrival long awaited, the farmers waived them in and the young hearts palpitated.
Such reminders. Thanks for this and the beautiful photos.