Connor
Dolan
She's one of the elite. She's my oilfield wife.
My Oilfield Wife
by Bradley Reed
The truck is packed, it’s time to go.
When I’ll return, I don’t really know.
As I look back, I see her there.
The weight of our family, is here to bare.
She stands so strong, she sheds no tears.
She does it for me to calm my fears.
I think to myself, she’ll be ok.
Her backbone is strong, she’ll find her way.
I drive away, she turns with grace.
The tears then come, and run down her face.
She wipes her cheeks and gets on with her day.
She manages our home, no time to play.
She raises our kids, she’ll clean and she’ll cook.
When the kids do wrong, she’ll give them the look.
She counts down the days, until I return.
On my way home, the tires will burn.
It’s been too long, since we’ve been together.
A day or a month, it seems like forever.
When I drive up, she runs through the door.
It’s smiles and hugs, and kisses galore!
Until the next hitch, life will resume.
We enjoy our days, no worries no gloom.
She’s beautiful and strong, the love of my life.
She’s one of the elite, an oilfield wife.
Texas crude oil, synthetic bridal chiffon, bioremediation archaea (microbes that eat hydrocarbons/oil), ethanol, mineral spirits, glass, acrylic, steel, and oscillating magnets
48 x 50 x 20 in
2021