ReaderOfSouls Poetry (137)

A ranch-farmer down in Las Cruces
Instead of fat cattle, raised gooses
His cowboys all quit
'Cause they just couldn't git
The gooses to stay in their nooses.

The aged coyote eyed the cowboy so old
While he stood with brazen gaze and bold


He said, "It's been a long haul, old man"
"You know we both started with no plan"

Glared the cowboy, "Just your hide on a pole".

A cowgirl way out in Wyoming
Went out for a ride in the gloaming
It's a purdy good hunch
That she met a cowpuch;
When she came in her hair needed combing!

John Wayne was a giant of the Western
The Searchers, True Grit, and Rooster Cogburn
He won the gunfights
He loved Miss Goodnight
And always proved that he was the best-durn!

The Western trails bore longhorn
Over oceans of grass plain
And cowboys rode like captains
Through waves of sun and rain

4-inch brims and rowelled spurs
Along with chaps and latigo
Matching leather on face and saddle
Of a seasoned, working pro

Some say the era of the cowboy
Is but a faded dream at best
But that independent spirit
Remains the heartbeat of the West

Miles removed from concrete jungles
On open vistas kissed by sun
Modern cowboys ride the range
Just like those days the West was won

So word and song is raised in honor
To everyone who bears the flame
Who stokes the fire of admiration
For a life no one will tame.

In the quiet of the morning
And the sky is clear and white
And dawn's soft hush has slipped
Across the solitude of night

When the last pale star has fallen
And the East's a rosy glow
Streak with lavenders and orchids
With a touch of indigo

When the colors are all blending
There is no defining each
And the sun peeps up appearing
Like some plump and pinkish peach

There is nothing quite so moving
Quite so silent, quite so strange
As the Lord's most recent wonder-
Birth of morning on the range

I can't quite seem to fathom-
I can't help wondering why-
I was placed among such beauty
All this solitude and sky

Now I see you ride before me,
As my feet trod earthly sod,
I watch you vanish in the sunrise
Go With God!

Here's to the passing cowboy, the plowman's pioneer
His home the boundless mesa, he of any man the peer
Around his wide sombrero was stretched rattler's hide
His bridle sporting conchos, lasso at his side.

Days spent roaming prairies, nights with the stars
Keeping vigil over thousands, not held by posts or bars
Never a diversion in all the lonesome land
Cattle, horses, sun and sage and sand.

Hoot owls hail him, scuttling through the flat
Prairie dogs sassing him, at their doors where they sat
Rattler hisses warning where near it's haunt he trod
Texas longhorn pursuing over pathless waste of sod.

Lasso, quirt and colt, cowboy knows his skill
Pass with him to history, naught in their place can fill
He, bold bronc rider, never conned a lesson page,
But cattle, horses, sun and sand and sage.

Long night watches, terror in the skies!
Lightning played and mocked him, until blinded were his eyes
Rage the storm around him, fear was in his heart
Lest panic-stricken leaders might make the whole herd start.

It meant a death for many, perhaps a wild stampede
None could stem the fury of the cattle in the lead
Then life seemed so little and death so very near
With cattle, cattle and cattle and darkness everywhere.

Then quaff with me a bumper of water clean and pure
The memory of the cowboy whose fame must ever endure
From the Llano Estacado to the Dakota's distant sands
Were herds of countless thousands in days of fenceless lands.

Let us rear for him an altar in the Temple of the Brave
And weave of Texas grasses, a garland for his grave
And offer him a guerdor for the work he has done
with cattle, horses, sage and sand and sun.

This life's been a grand undertaking
On a long and tortuous trail;
Emotions and dreams kept us floating
Like ships breaking waves at full sail.

We've partaken of visual wonders...
Watched the trout rise to harvest a fly-
While mountains-- shaken by thunder-
Flashed neon beneath a lightning framed sky.

We've thrilled at the elk's lusty whistle
Marveled at spots on a fawn;
Then, quick as a shot from a pistol;
These symbols of freedom were gone.

We've rigged a team in dray trappings,
Sowed joy from a buckboard behind,
Motivated by multitudes clapping,
In response to old ballads aligned.

We've sought the fruits of the forest
Those ravaged and gutted by man,
Whose intentions- not always purest,
Embrace his municipal plan.

We've seen sections of lush vegetation
Which loss we may never atone,
Yield to a civilization...
To asphalt, skyscrapers and stone.

Ox wagons, once truly symbolic..
A vestige of migrations West
Wore wheels that proceeded the frolic
Of autos man soon would possess.

Songs written in delicate sonnets
Harmonized in a warm hearted swoon,
Emphasized a pure life on the planet-
While rockets raced up to the moon.

We've seen the invincible humbled
Our century nearly half gone,
From the full bloom of youth we have stumbled
And still time marches on.

Now fanatics die by the legion;
They call this, "Allegiance to God",
Others leap to defend each his region;
It's the righteous who bloody the rod!

It's peculiar the road we've traveled
And no doubt we'll traverse it again
Do not bolt as the world comes unraveled,
But, drive on, for great goodness remains.

I gathered about twenty cows this morning
And moved them through the gate
To the back of our winter range
When I finished up it wasn't too late

So I headed out cross country
Wandering through the pines
Because there's at least another forty head
I still need to find

I didn't find another cow today
Though I covered a lot of ground
I didn't come home empty handed
A mystery I found

On a jack pine ridge on Rocky Lake
On a bed of needles there
Was one old rusty horseshoe
And the bleached skull of a bear

These curiosities I carried home
Found by chance a strange design
The bear's life and death a mystery
But the horse that threw that shoe was mine.

A field of bright diamonds
Sparkles, shine and glow
First rays of dawn,
Crisp, new fallen snow

A New Day
A new year
A fresh page bright and clean
Fresh snow on the meadow,
Not a track to be seen.

A crisp new canvas on the easel
An untouched meadow, snowy white,
We pause to choose our palette,
To what tales our tracks may write.

So rest awhile.
Reflect a bit,
Start your New Year slow
Lest rage and passion of bygone days,
Stain crimson on the snow.

Choose the path that suits you best,
Paint with colors that will last!
For the future lies unblemished
By the errors of the past.

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.