The Bluebonnet Waltz
My first springtime in the Texas Hill Country was a lush one for wildflowers. The story got started with a line from Bill Staines’ “Roseville Fair”: “You were dressed in blue/And you looked so lovely/A gentle flower of a small-town girl.” But the story had its own ideas about how it wanted to end – and begin again.
You were standing on the sideline
In a dress of cotton blue,
At the age when a girl begins to bloom.
You were fair as any blossom
That West Texas ever grew,
And you whispered, as we whirled around the room:
“Love is a meadow, growing wild in the spring,
And our hearts, a pair of bluebirds, as they call.
Dance with me, darling, like a flower in the wind,
To the strains of the Bluebonnet Waltz.”
I courted you through April,
And I married you in May,
And by summer, you were carrying our child.
I recall those autumn evenings,
We would waltz the nights away,
As I lingered in the springtime of your smile.
Now I still will bring you flowers
When the prairie blushes blue,
To show you that another winter’s passed.
I will tell you of a young girl,
Who each year, looks more like you,
And I’ll seem to hear your voice across the grass:
“Every springtime has to come to an end.
Every flower has to wither and fall,
But think of me, darling, when the music begins,
Playing the strains of an old Texas waltz.
And we’ll dance, one more time,
Yes, we’ll dance, one more time,
Come and dance, one more time,
To the Bluebonnet Waltz.”
Words and music © 1992 by Steve Brooks and Frog Records