Most Liked Allegory Poems (898)

Instead of working horseback and following the cow
I could be afoot behind the horse and following the plow.
Sleeping soft in a cabin, cuddling a baby, being a wife,
Clear water, and home cooking, a settled kind of life

That's far away, far, far away from the fix I'm in here now.

Here, my belly is my blanket and my back my only bed,
Stone the only pillow on which to lay my bloody head;
Can't even wallow a hip hole where I lie on solid rock.
No one to sing a sad song, no prayers, no soothing talk.

I'm so alone, so all alone, it will be a comfort to be dead.

A stumble on the rimrock; horse and me both took a spill
He's down, bad hurt and thrashing, beyond my reach to kill
To relieve his pain and misery, so I guess we share our fate
In this lonely place so far away where help will come too late.

And the relief that is my rifle is gone, long gone downhill.

Death won't be long in coming and I hope I face it brave;
That the pain will treat me gentle so I'll not rant and rave,
Cursing the God who made me, or blaming him for this fix
Let me mind, instead stay clear and resist those devil tricks.

And to the end, the very end, thank God for the life HE gave.

As clear and compelling as the clang of a dinner bell
Is the horse's futile scratching at the ground on which he fell,
So the buzzards glide and slide down a drain of azure sky
Studying the menu; watching, waiting for supper to die.

And bones, lonely bones, will be left, the story to tell.

Soon my Maker will be asking if I lived the golden rule
And wonder about my learning in HIS earthly mortal school.
I'll answer for every wicked thought that ever filled my mind
While hoping they'll be balanced by the times I acted kind

So the tally shows not evil, rather, fool' mere human fool.

What is it makes your old yard dog
Bay all night at the moon,
In chorus with the wild coyote's
Archaic clannish tune?

By daylight he's content enough
To lay around and nap.
Domesticated by his look
A ward of table scrap.

But nightfall wakens something deep
Where mind and soul convene
Some age-old longing locked away
Embedded in his genes.

The same thing makes a fella
Who is both steadfast and sane,
Jerk down a rope and join the chase
With slack pitched in his rein.

His slight regard for consequence
Attests to what's inside
A banner unfurled honestly,
Impossible to hide,

Some know it on the ocean's waves.
Some dig it out of mines.
It finds us on the city streets
Or high up in the pines.

It's played out in the stadiums
For all the multitude,
Or realized in the cedar breaks
In perfect solitude.

That we fool others and ourselves
It matters not at all.
We're ruled by what's inside us
When we hear the coyote call.

Come sit by me, down on this log;
Now look out over the plains,
To where I'm pointing at right now,
And watch the falling rain.

It's odd the way some clouds can do;
They come and go alone,
To where it's dry as powder hyar,
But pounding down below.

Now take that big one over there
So white and marvelous
You think it'd be the one to watch;
The one to bother us.

But it's not full up to the brim
With water from afar
Like the flat and sullen dark ones
(Like tipping up a jar).

And too, those little ones up there
Close by the mountain peak
They just like to ride the wind
They're so dry they 'near about squeak.

But down there near the winter pass
Where the grass is green and tall
Is where the clouds all come to meet
Where we get the heavy fall.

Can you see out there beyond the clouds?
Where the sky is blue and fair?
To where the sunlight seems to spill
Around most everywhere?

Well, that's the way I feel about you,
Whenever I hear your name,
Because you are like that sky to me,
Some ways, you're near the same.

The cattle were bedded down on the hill
It was a peaceful sight that I saw
The winter moon hung high in the sky
Casting shadows on the side of the draw.

The Christmas lights on the ranch house below
Sparked a thought of a night gone by
When shepherds, watching over their flocks
Heard the message from the sky

I stopped and looked at the stars above
And listened where all was quiet
Then into my heart the came the message
The angels delivered that night

I stepped from the saddle whispering aloud,
"Shepherds watching over their flocks",
My mount rubbed his head on my shoulder
As he shifted his feet on the rocks.

The horse held his breath while we listened
I could hear the heavenly choir
Then the spirit bore witness once again
And burned in my heart like fire.

Yes, the ranchers, herders and cowboys
Who work beneath the wide open sky
Can understand how the shepherds felt
When they heard the voice from on high

Let the rich and the powerful pity me
Let the city folk think I am strange;
My silent prayer shall continue to be,
"Lord, thanks for my home on the range".

There was a time you believed
That nothing could happen to you
You were in a place, deep in a hole
So dark that you could not see

Everyday the rain won't fall
The sun will come out and shine on us all
There's a light at the end for you, my friend
So take it from me, the storm will someday end

So much has changed inside your heart
We can tell it's tearin' you apart
We share your pain and feel your hurt
But holy water cleanses the dirt

There's a light at the end for you, my friend
Take it from me, the storm will someday end

The sun is gonna shine and the rain won't fall
The storm is going to pass

Oh, take it from me
The storm will someday end.

After the War

Surreal haze of war
Blinded, numb and bloody
The soldier limps along
They say the paper is signed
They say the war is over
The horror now behind
Yet still the shots ring out

Was ever peace existing?
The first shots fired forgotten
How it started so unclear
And all these years just battle
fighting ducking taking cover
Living in a trench
Never sure just why.

Morally expected
Carrying out your vow
To never leave your station
No worse is worse enough
Bruised and battered
Marching, falling, getting up
Falling down again.

The haze of war is clearing
The numbness fades away
Sickness comes in waves
The damage now surveyed
So great the devastation
New losses still uncovered
How deep the wounds of war

Watching steel being pulled
From deep within the flesh
The length of blade so startling
The weapon of an expert
so deftly placed and sunk
The twisting was the thing
Twas no mistaking that.

Still the heart is pumping
And sutures slow the bleeding
But wracking pain and dizziness
Make marching on so hard
Life will not be stopping
And perhaps the march of time
Will leave the ruins of war behind.

Wiser now, perhaps
Weary now, for sure.
The mind now filling gaps
Obscured by haze of war.

He wore his best gray Bailey
Though it was a bit battered
His Saturday night denim shirt
The sleeves just slightly tattered.

His jeans were tucked in knee highs
The boots hand made and tooled
He wore his spurs to this event
'Cause town folks think it's cool.

He swaggered to the microphone
And tipped his hat with flair
He announced to the crowd loudly
"This one's about Mary, so fair".

"Now, she was my true love"
"As refreshing as a western morn",
"I could love no other girl
"Pretty as any that was ever born".

"But in the end it could never work"
"Our love was forever damned"
"I'm a cowman, you see, my friends",
"And she always had that little lamb".

The crowd roars it's appreciation
And he bows low at the waist
"I've got more!" he bellows
Not one to leave the spotlight in haste.

For the next hour he recites
Tales of guns, horses and fights
And makes the sponsors reconsider
The idea of the open mike.

He left the stage to much fanfare
And reveled in the new found fame
Certain that all that attended that night
Would remember his family name.

He got in his pickup to take his leave
Knowing he had made an impression
The ladies were surely swooning
And the men battling depression.

"I'll be back", he vowed quietly
"I'm on a historic mission"
"The legend needs to stay alive
"And I tell of the cowboy tradition".

It's a thoughtful time of night, as I stand beside the firelight
And contemplate the vastness of the universe
I see distant galaxies of stars, Oh look! There's Jupiter and Mars!
I gaze awestruck, at heavens so diverse.

To use "Big Bang" nomenclature, did a random act of nature
Create the cosmos I see spiraling in the sky?
Was it just a fluke of fate, like an unlatched cattle gate,
That made the stars that fill this cowgirl's eye?

Or was it by divine design, meant to give us folks down here a sign
That a greater power created all we see?
Not an accidental whim, but a world created just by HIM,
To give purpose to the lives of folks like me?

When you're living on the land, you can see the Maker's hand
In every cow and horse and cowboy on the place,
We're not here by accident, I figure every one of us was sent
To work the herd with the good Lord's tender grace.

I'm not the one, I'm not the only,
Who's been so fooled, was treated thus.
I'm not the one, I'm not the only,
Who's made myself a laughing stock.
I'm not the one, I'm not the only,
Who's been let down - an easy prey to lies.
I'm not the one, I'm not the only
Who's now in trouble - that serves me right.
"Syrup and soothing dope, sure, they can live on hope",
says Ezra Pound, meaning me and many other guys.

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.