ReaderOfSouls Poetry (137)

Cowboy poets are among my heroes
And I'm certain you're wondering why
Well I suppose it's 'cause they make me laugh
And sometimes they make me cry.

They have a way of sparking my brain up it seems
To make my mind's eye see the horses
Crossing clear blue mountain streams
Cold water running stony courses.


They can make my mind's eye nose
Smell a thing or two as well
Like horse sweat and leather
On a day that's hot as hell.

They can make me feel the snowflakes
As they sting my ears and face
As I'm bringing in a calving heifer
Down to the Old Home Place.

They just up and lift my heart
To a place they call the West
And there is just enough cowgirl in me
To know that place is best.

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".

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.

I'm not the kind to stick around without it
It'd be a crime 'cause darlin' I'm all about it
It's in my blood, it keeps me breathing
It's like a drug, gotta have the feeling

It's been awhile since I've seen your face
What a shame, what a waste

I've been up, I've been down, I've been kicked to the ground
But I can't get my mind off of you
So I keep moving on to a place I belong
Hopin' you wanted me to

I'm better than I was before
I'm knockin' at your door
I'm comin' back for more
Yeah, I need a little more

I keep comin' back..back... back

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".

Not everyone's Christmas is merry,
Not everyone's heart's filled with cheer;
Perhaps it is because they are missing
A loved one not with them this year.

It might be a soldier in service,
Or death might have darkened their door;
There's reasons why some folks are lonely
As something we should not ignore.

It must be real hard to be lonely,
While others are happy and gay;
While we see the blue skies and sunshine,
Their skies are cloudy and gray.

And it's easy with our lives so busy
To not take time to be there
To help lift a burden for others
And let them know someone cares.

If you want to do something this Christmas
To help those who might be alone
Take time from your parties and shopping
And give them a call on the phone.

Better yet, pay them a visit
To let them know somebody cares;
For none of us know of tomorrow
Where we may have crosses to bear.

So this year when you go out shopping,
Be sure that you add to your list
A name of someone that's lonely
And give them the best kind of gift.

You won't have to spend any money,
For we know that the best gifts are free
Take time for the lonely this Christmas
It's just how the Lord meant it to be.

*Sung to the tune of "Jingle Bells"*

Dashing through the streets, on a panicked runaway
If I can't get this colt to stop, there'll be a price to pay
I've pressured and released, but he won't give to the bit,
I wish that I was anywhere, instead of where I sit.

Jinglin' bells, flashing lights, reindeer on the roof
This colt gets higher off the ground, each time he lifts a hoof
If I could just get to the ground, the ground is where I'll stay;
And never ride no green-broke colt to town on Christmas Day.

Now we were doing fine, a joggin' down the lane
I used equine psychology and got inside his brain
But he could not stay hooked, when Old Saint Nick strolled by,
His beard ain't white at all, compared to this pony's eye.

Jinglin' bells, Santa Claus, Snowmen in the yard,
Training colts around Christmastime's a job that's kind of hard,
Carolers sing so loud and some jerk in a sleigh,
I wish I never rode this colt to town on Christmas Day.

A day or two ago, down on the old round pen
We'd progressed nicely throughout the book on up to Chapter Ten
I thought I had him broke, guess I had a ways to go,
'Cause I don't think John Lyons himself could get this horse to WHOA!

Jinglin' bells, dancing elves, and a merry HO! HO! HO!
This colt's wound up like a spring, I know he's gonna blow!
Angel hair and mistletoe and Rudolph's big red nose,
The end this ride is coming to, sure ain't the one I chose.

Oh Lord! I'm still aboard, as he dashes in the barn
That doorway's just a little snug, I think I've broke my arm,
Each time I try to rise, my ankle gives away,
I guess if I had to tell the truth, this just ain't been my day. OOOOOH!

Jinglin' bells, MRIs, ankle in a cast
At first I was mad at that colt, but now my rage has passed,
I'll limp for life, just use one arm, and I guess I'll lose this eye,
But I should be back to riding colts by the Fourth Day of July.

They've been to get their Christmas tree, they hadn't far to go
They live in that high country where young timber starts to grow
The day is cold, the snow is new, there aren't so many tracks
Dad has got the Christmas tree, the boy gets to hold the ax.

You notice by the chimney that the fireplace is wide
They have their house built strong and low, it's plenty warm inside
They've got a good set of corrals besides a stable too;
They are fixed up pretty handy for a place to winter through

And when they put the candles on, it's easy to believe
How that tree will look by firelight this comin' Christmas Eve
There won't be any carols sung, no organ will be to play
But they'll have a happy Christmas in the hills so far away

I'll bet Dad's thinking, back to when he was a kid
How folks would spend their Christmas and things he got and did
Of course the boy, he looks ahead, he thinks not of the past
But soon he'll have his Christmas memories that'll keep until the last.

Ranching life is cattle-
Riding fence and shakin' hay,
Spending hours in a saddle
Working weary for my pay.

It's spinning fancy rope tricks
Telling yarns the cowboy way
Tying knots and twisting wire
Watching gangly calves at play.

It's friendship between old bunkmates-
It's the fellowship of men
And the sharing of a moment
At the passing of a friend.

It's the clap of heavy thunder
When the last one's in the pen
And a weary pony's playful romp..
When the long day hits its end.

It's a flat loop when you need it
It's a dally without thumbs
It's the sizzle of an iron
When they've rounded up the bums.

It's the sparkling stars of heaven
When the cool of evening comes
And the calming gift of music
When a campfire guitar strums.

It's the burst of blooming clover
And the smell of new mown hay,
And the soothing sounds the crickets make
When all light's gone from day.

It's the greening days of drizzle
That transform the land each May,
And the twinkling eyes of children...
Watching barn cats' kittens play.

It's the crisp snap your boots make..
On fresh new arctic snow,
And the heavenly glow of northern lights
Setting winter skies aglow.

But mostly it's the simple little truths
That all ranch families know....
Respect the land.. the earth and man...
And the creatures God's bestowed.

Mary was a sprightly gal along about age eleven
The bunkhouse hands all doted on her since she was about seven
Now Mary got a great idea for Christmas time this year
She wanted to have a Christmas play - but had no actors near
Except the bunkhouse cowpokes- the idea filled them with fright
But the boss said to do it and to plan for Christmas night.

With fear and trepidation the cowboys tried to decide
Who would play the various parts- they wanted to run and hide
But Mary had her own ideas about who would play who
So she went to the bunkhouse to tell them what to do.

"Now Rory, you're the tallest, so Joseph will be your part,
Tex and Johnny will be shepherds, but don't let it break your heart
Old Bill, Big Red and Stumpy, you three are just the right sizes
So you'll be the three wise men, bringin' Baby Jesus his prizes".

"I'm gonna go see Mary Jo, she's the foreman's wife
To have her be the angel, the acting role of her life
My pa will be the narrator and I'll be helpin' too;
We'll put this play together and show you all what to do".

"Hey, Mary", Big Red up and said, "Who's gonna be the baby?"
Mary thought a little while and said, "Maybe the Millers down the road
Could be in our little play,
They just had a baby boy, I'll ride down and see what they have to say".

So off she rode and soon came back a smilin' through and through
"Mrs. Miller and her baby boy will be Jesus and Mary too!"
With that news the bunkhouse boys got the Christmas spirit anew
And made plans and read the script from Luke, Chapter Two.

Then Stumpy scratched his head and took the time to ask
"Where are you plannin' for us to go and do this Christmas task?"
Old Bill stood up, looked at the barn, and said, "I reckon we are able
To clean up this barn and fix it up to be a Christmas stable".

At last the eve of Christmas arrived, and not a bit too soon
The hands in all their costumes, waited 'neath the Christmas moon
Mary and her pa read the Christmas story that happened so long ago
The boys and Millers played their parts with combined hearts aglow.

When it was done, they went to the house for cookies and hot cider
Then everyone knelt down, 'cept Mrs. Miller on the chair glider
And they all gave thanks to God for the gift of His precious son
Then hearts warmed with joy, they all returned to their places, one by one.

On the long trek to the barn
The snow crunches under my feet
From somewhere in the trees
A hoot owl gives it's mournful cry
The sweet smell of hay greets me as I open the door

The new calf is up and nursing, a worry no more
As I step back out my breath appears in a cloud of stem,
It's a night of beauty, a moment to dream


Stars twinkle in a crisp, clear sky
Prompting me to wonder again
"Why? Why?"
God chose to have His Holy Son born in a barn, laid of hay


When He with such divine power had the choice of any way
Did he plan that the keepers of lowly cattle and sheep
Be the first believers of the gift of the babe asleep?

For the angels led the herdsmen
On their long way
To the precious, tiny child swaddled in rags and hay
I began to hum "Silent Night" as I follow the pathway
So thankful for all of god's gifts, born in the hay.