A womans kiss might find you
On some dusty old trail
You might catch a glimpse of
Her smile as her fingers glide
Through her hair
But there is a book never read
By man hidden in the cave of
Desire
It reveals the secrets of her mystic
Charms
Many have tried to obtain this book
But the seven headed dragon guards
The entrance to this treasure
And the sage who sits on the hill say's,
'You're better off to go your way and
Perish the thought of this knowledge..'
And he adds, 'Why not relish the honey
Cone in its season and be filled with the
Wonders of magic.?'
For a womans kiss is made of wonders unknown.'
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2014
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online today!
There's a race of men who don't fit in
A race that can't stay still;
So they break the hearts of kith and kin
And they roam the world at will.
They range the field, they rove the flood,
And they climb the mountain's crest;
Theirs is the curse of wandering feet
And they don't know how to rest.
If they just went straight up they might go far;
They are strong and brave and true;
But they are always tired of the things that are,
And they want the strange and new.
They say: "Could I find my proper groove.
What a deep mark I would make!"
So they chop and change, and each fresh move
Is only a fresh mistake.
And each forgets as he strips and runs
With a brilliant, fitful pace
It's the steady, quiet, plodding ones
Who win in the lifelong race.
And each forgets that his youth has fled
Forgets that his time is past,
Until he stands one day, with a hope gone dead
In the glare of the truth at last.
He's failed, he's failed, he's missed his chance
He has done just things by half,
Life's just been a jolly good joke on him ,
And now's the time to laugh.
Ha! Ha! He is one of the Legion lost;
He was never meant to win;
He's a rolling stone, and it's bred in the bone
He's a man who won't fit in.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Jan 2011
About this poem:
An observation of the folly of man.
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Like the gentle clouds that float above head
Memories, times that seem to have stood still
A book with the end I not yet have read
Just holding me against my fragile will
The warmth of the comfort of knowing you
Holds me close when the chill tries to enter
No lies no suspicions for we know true
Yet summer goes away and comes winter
Can I stay warm with only memories
A cover made from the clouds up above
Or is it time to let go and fly free
To close this door and turn my back on love
A tattered rag can let the sunlight in
But want stow warmth upon me in the end
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Sep 2013
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Your love came to me
Like a warm summers
Breeze
In the fragrance of
Honeysuckle
You awakened my sleeping
Tears
My sorrow flowed into your
Love
You healed me with the breath
Of your mercy
You made me live again
You hold my souls breath on
The tip of your finger
And you have taught me that
I am not my own
I live because you have
Shown me your love.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Nov 2014
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online today!
The Cowboy Way or the Tin-horn Trail
Is a choice confronts us all;
And there aren't that many can start down one
Then answer the other's call.
Those trails are different as night and day
Unlike as mirage and lake;
One of them is stable and clearly real
The other a shifty fake.
"That Quicksilver Kid from Queens" he claimed
"Is glib as a feller can get";
So the Kid's new name was bogus too,
So maybe he's nameless yet.
See, he couldn't ride, and he couldn't cull,
And he never rolled a smoke;
He couldn't cuss, and he couldn't cook,
And he thought our work a joke.
'Course this tin-horned triple-threat was last
To roll out every dawn
But the first one back to camp each night-
Or to have somebody on.
Now, no one knew where Kid came from
Nor ever really cared;
But we knew durn well his tin-horn tales
It was no place we had fared.
He kept that kilt of his hid away
Kind of like his real name;
And to ask a man about things like that,
Just isn't the Western way.
But sly, sorta snide, near sneers dished out
Was making it hard to grin;
And this taking himself a new name each day
- That was wearing mighty thin.
Our crew was a tolerant bunch
And a bit short-handed then;
So we tried to put up with the tin-horn's dance,
'Cause we had a herd to pen.
Then there came a night with glowing clouds
And a breeze that boded storms;
The herd was shifting, restless, ripe,
In the gloam just roiling forms.
The Quicksilver Kid was sent that night
To help us sing them 'round;
And a greater mistake ain't never been made
Since the Lord sent Satan down.
Kid snuck his kilt and pipes along;
-First notes of his lullaby
Launched lightning, horses, herd and crew
From froze to flyin' by.
Remuda just vanished before our eyes
There were cattle climbing trees;
Most of our crew is religious now
-Dropped Cookie right onto his knees.
While crew was gatherin' 'round the Boss
With a lynching 'bout to begun
Kid kept a playin' out there alone
-Smartest thing he'd ever done.
Boss calmed us all with a plan he had
Before the Kid come back;
An old idea, one tried and true,
Send a piper pipe 'em back.
We never did see that Kid again
We lost him when the sky turned pale;
Some say he's out there pipin' still,
But we reckon that's tin-horn tale.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Feb 2011
About this poem:
A mysterious Scotsman joins the crew.
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Sun heats the body
Rising bringing higher heat
The village now sleeps
---- IMAGE REMOVED because photobucket.com no longer allows embedded images ----
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: May 2013
About this poem:
Been awhile since I have done a Haiku hope I got it right????
Pic is my scene from back yard of sunset....
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with my wings of fire i will expand my sacred heart of love across all the lands protecting my brothers of high command for i am pure the devoted one and with these hands i shall mend with the blessing form heaven above nothing shall stand in my way keeping the enemy's form my children at bay only to return again and again sorry wink!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Mar 2015
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Toys of the mind
we create for
ourselves
With pink ribbons
and glitter and
kept on a shelf
On any given day
we'll unwrap
one or two
Pop open a
box-any one
will do
Today it's the
black box and
out jumps the
hate
With green eyes
and envy
That's ruling
our fate
It's a rainy
day, O well,
Just plug it
in the wall
Watch it spin
and twirl as
it sets up
our fall
To late to
put it back
It won't fit
in the box
Growing bigger
in the mind
With it's own
chain and lock
Hurry to those
rainy day toys
We invent for
ourselves
Created in the
factory by our
our mental
elves-
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2011
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online today!
I sit here on my steadfast horse
While the moon begins its nightly course
I'm riding nightherd, so I guess there's time
To reflect upon this life of mine.
My right leg is crooked over the saddle horn
As I wait for signs of the imminent morn'
It's not hard for a cowgirl's thoughts to dwell
Upon her Creator, and the Lord's words as well.
The wind carries the sound through the night air
Of the grazing remuda and the belled mare
My horse would like to join them, I can imagine
And I wish to be sleeping, like the others, by the wagon.
But, instead, I'm here, and wondering how
Any one who's ever worked with a cow
Could disbelieve that there is a God
Who put us upon this wonderful sod.
Isn't it amazing how an old mama cow
Will go off by herself, away from the crowd
And for the most part, calve out, without hardly coughing
Though we take it for granted, we see it so often.
What about those geese I saw fly by today?
Who tells them to fly southward, and which is the right way?
My horse's winter coat, now there's a strange thing,
Who tells him to shed it as winter turns to spring?
A cowboy might think and eclipse is a mystery
Though we've seen them any times through posterity
Ain't it something how the sun and moon have chartered courses?
How a mighty river springs from the smallest mountain sources?
This manger scene before me reminds me of my Savior's birth
And God had given His only Son to die for all of earth
I may never understand it all, I can only believe
Just as I'll never quite savvy how a spider learns to weave.
My horse stomps his forefoot, and chomps at the bit
Our job tonight is over and I'm glad of it
I believe there is a God, if my opinion you would count
And I hope you will pardon...this sermon on my mount.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2010
About this poem:
Contemplating life one night while riding nightherd.
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I was born from the dust of
the earth yet I taste the breath
of eternity
Call me what you will, but a God
would call me blessed
I am nothing one might say until
my worth has been assigned by
principalities from beyond this
realm
Yet this revelation is given..I possess
no wisdom to validate my claims
Ramble on and on the wise men
echo for no one has the knowledge
of eternity.. go your own way until
the consumation
But, alas! My own thoughts cause
me to smile
I am lost
I am alone
I am nothing
Without her..
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Dec 2013
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