AnAngelAlways Poetry (2)

He has a belief in God, his Creator;
He sees him in the stars, the sunsets, the green grass
And finds his church in the open spaces,
The mountains, a clear creek, the blue sky.
He loves the bawl of a new-born calf almost as
Much as he loves the laughter of a little child.

He treats women with respect at all times,
He always puts family first,
And he works hard 'cause it's the right thing to do.
He'd be there to help a friend or neighbor
At the drop of a hat

He knows it doesn't really matter
What kind of pickup he drives,
Or what kind of house he lives in,
Or how much he has in his bank account.

But he knows what does matter
Is that the world might be a little better
'Cause he made a difference
In the life of a child.

He seeks not fame or glory-
His satisfaction is in doing a job right,
'Cause in his heart
It's a victory of right over wrong.

If he's lucky,
Once in his life he'll have that one perfect horse
That he'll consider his best pard,
And, if he's lucky,
Once in his life he'll have a wife
That he'll consider his best friend.

His word has always been his bond;
His firm handshake, his signature.
He does right by others
Because he doesn't understand any other way.

His life can be lonely at times.
But he's at peace with himself.
And he knows there's better grass awaitin'
When it's his time to head 'er on out to
The other side.

It's hard to define a real cowboy,
But when you meet him, you'll know.

I don't know about you,
But as for me,
My heroes have always been cowboys.

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.