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Cowboy Beautiful Poems | Cowboy Poems About Beautiful

These Cowboy Beautiful poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Beautiful. These are the best examples of Cowboy Beautiful poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric | |

TONIGHT YOU WON'T MISS ME

My eyes aren't far, girl they're in the sky
I'm away right now but it's not goodbye
I know you're lonely but I'm headed home
Hear me say to you, you won't be alone.. 
Tonight!

This one horse town well it will soon be two
I'm riding real fast gonna make love to you
Stars are shinning bright oh it won't be long
And I am so excited cause I'm almost home

Tonight you won't miss me
Cause I'll be there
You know I will be kissing
You girl.. Everywhere
You see what I'm doing
Umm, it's poetry
Yeah, I'm your Cowboy
It's always been you and me

Didn't lose your lover I was always here 
I was just out musing, the night's so clear
You're my only Princess, wear your crown
Girl, you look so sexy in that royal gown
Tonight!

Your Prince is coming and I won't be late
Your heart's not forgotten, I can hardly wait
So dry all those tears.. let me see you smile
Your muse is back again after a little while

Tonight you won't miss me
Cause I'll be there
You know I will be kissing
You girl.. Everywhere
You see what I'm doing
Umm, it's poetry
Yeah, I'm your Prince
It's always been you and me

Yeah, 
Tonight you won't miss me
Cause I'll be there
You know I will be kissing
You girl.. Everywhere
You see what I'm doing
Umm, it's poetry
Yeah, I'm your Lover
It's always been you and me

5-17-15


Details | Lyric | |

God Knows I'm a Country Girl

God knows I'm a country girl,
and wouldn't trade it for nothin' in this world.
Long brown hair and big brown eyes,
I'll take you on an exciting ride,
to the big beautiful countryside.
Get ready to hang on tight.
Gonna give you the ride of your life.
Hair whippin' wild in the wind,
hangin' out with my country friends.
This is where the fun begins.
Raised up on fried chicken and red beans,
sporting my tight fittin' jeans.

God knows I'm a country girl,
and wouldn't trade it for nothin' in this world.
We can sit on the front porch swing,
maybe sing or even daydream.
Gonna have a mighty fine time, 
sippin' on that strawberry wine.
Gonna live a mighty long time,
on this beautiful countryside.
Boy, I hope you enjoy the ride with me,
maybe we'll go fishing or even swimming,
watch the crane spread it's wings.
Ducks gathering on the big wide open pond,
lovebirds making a bond.

Yes, God knows I'm a country girl.
There is one last thing I have to say.
Barefoot and fancy free,
plain as the big outdoors I will be.
Why don't you take a ride with me?
Let me show you the big fine country.


Details | Free verse | |

Groundswell Girl - Named by JB

Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be 
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed 
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin 
Whisper lies as I let you in 
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky 
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail


Details | Free verse | |

Howling Wolf

The feeling of your touch 
I know it in the brush of the wind
The heat of the sun
Sweeping down on my skin
A reasurrace of a hand on my shoulder
A tear wiped away
As it fell from the sky
I know much about you
Like your cowboys and indians
And the nights we would dance
a pow wow in the night lights
stars abrasive against our hearts
rubbing off the smudge and dirt 
To say im proud would be an understatement
Our heritage may lie beneath the pavement 
But in our hearts and in our words
The feathers still fly
Howling wolf, and I


Details | Rhyme | |

This is me

My knees were the things that 
kept me up and my skin is my 
cutting board my eyes are the 
rain clouds to the fire running 
down my arms and my heart is 
the fire place that keeps me 
burning so calm


Details | Elegy | |

Passing

To see her blog, adorned with pastel tones
Widens the gap that pervades my bones
For now we eat her passing meal of plain white rice
Leaving us all alone, without much needed fashion advice

The red light district has lost an inductee
For I would have love to be involved in her naked party
Yet for now we must all be content 
With the debauched path she hath went.

Sadness invades a binary world
Where tweeters and bloggers hearts have curled
Bringing back memories of Madonna’s ‘Like A Virgin’
Her fashion advice precise like a mastoplexic surgeon

I remember the fervour when you were followed by Kath Kidston
A similar experience when I had my first Jar of Branston
Yet when you found out the intensity with which I was following you
You wanted to change species and become a Gnu

You learnt to accept my frequent outpourings of love
When you finally spoke to me, I felt as free as a pure white dove
But upon your departure I feel pathetic and hollowed
The best I can hope for is the number of one of the hot bloggers you followed

She was always my muse, my intimate inspiration
No-one can cause such an outpouring of personal perspiration
My heart now yearns to see her type a special tweet
One that would make Mr Sexton act like a dog on heat

Now the world mourns the passing of Lily Fulvio-Mason
I can still see her face reflected in my wash basin
With every heart beat, every full blooded pulse
My sadness streaked blood makes my body convulse

But now it’s time to go, my heart says goodbye
The pain eats my nipples like the Syrphid Fly
I can finally see your body laid in an eternal rest
And now I can now finally uncover your breast.


Details | I do not know? | |

The First Goodbye

laying in your bed
watching you
get dressed
the permanent ring in the
back pocket
of your blue jeans
i’m missing you already


Details | Elegy | |

America the Beautiful

America the Beautiful 
The heartland of America of peace and old farmhouses,
the country I read about as a young man it is still there
although news we are served is of riots and mass shooting.
Sturdy farmers in blue overall at the bottom of the road
 have collections of old stuff from recent past things
collected for the love of it, but you can buy some if they
feel like selling, canny know the value of scrap metal
Nice roads in a green landscape and tall three, and no 
police sirens scream around winding corners and bullets
do not fly through the air hitting a child. 

This is America the beautiful, I will go there someday,
perhaps buy a rusty old Dodge that has been standing under
a tree for twenty five years-who cares- and talk to the old 
farmer about this and the sorry life of city dwellers.        


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

I'm A Country Man

I’m a country man living in this beautiful land 
Every day seeing how lucky I am
When I drive into the city
Because the woman are so pretty
Inside and out  
They are filled with beauty
From the legs, to the hair,
All I can do is smile and stare
Sometimes I wave here and there
To these pretty girls that are everywhere
Oh when I have had a long day at work
And I am feeling like I need to smirk
I just drive in to the city
Because the woman are so pretty
And sometimes when I am at the city bar
So many girls are there looking pretty good when they dance
So I flash them a smile 
Hoping for a little romance that will last
Cause I’m a country man living in this beautiful land
I wanta settle down with the prettiest one in this town
Yes I am a country man
Oh I am just a country man living in the city
Where the woman are so pretty


Details | Couplet | |

Unknown

Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.


Details | Free verse | |

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Carpe Diem | |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Narrative | |

Mother

The memory keeper respectfully scribes this euology to Georgia's sweetest peach.
Over three decades ago on a warm spring day, displayed was not emotion, but the
"Mrs. American Beauty"s portrait. It ain't so until I see for myself, so I took a look.
She looked mighty fine, no need to be hidden behind what the rest of the world saw.

Now I can tell them that picture on the wall wasn't the best one of all. I remember
Better ones I no longer have. At sixteen she wore a long white dress with a dozen
Red roses and a piece of paper tied with a red ribbon. I salute the proud woman
Standing tall dressed blue. Later a mother without makeup holds me in her arms.
She holds my brother's hand as he wore a cowboy suit and hat.

The Southern Belle of the Ball is still on the wall with the brown curls cut and dyed
The dark of night. I remember rides in boats and her notes floating in the air filled
With seagulls cries and they ask why the song bird was put in a cage. 

Thrice engaged she kept on ringing the wedding bells until Hell's rage killed her, 
Fueling the fire into the Devil's words. Her beautiful heart was heavy with so many
Epithets. She missed her second Dad and a boy in a cowboy hat. 

No more words to sing as her loving lungs collapsed, as she headed for God's
Forgiving Heaven, toe-tagged Jane Doe, nobody special. Everyone should have
Known she was June like her birth month. Beautiful inside. A warm summer night.