These Cowboy Childhood poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Childhood. These are the best examples of Cowboy Childhood poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
Wearing Daddy's boots & cowboy hat & not much in between
Why, Momma, ain't she just about the prettiest baby you've ever seen?
I'm sure wishing she was talking, reading her mind is quite a trick
And she's sure getting awful heavy, I hope she's walking quick
Whoa there, sassy, Momma look at her running wild
Why I am not sure there ever was a more rambunctious child
Life sure was a picnic when we could just bundle her up & go
Now I get tuckered just watching her, she's a pint size dynamo
Waist length braids, a gap tooth grin & freckled face
That's our girl, Momma, her calf just took first place
How old is she now, six? No, she can't possibly be eight
Seems she is growing up faster than I'd anticipate
Well I'll be, look at her standing on the stairs
in a fancy gown, heels & make up putting on womanly airs
this young girl looking back at me, yesterday she was only seven
Now there's a young buck staring at her like he's just seen heaven
Wearing a cap & gown, her diploma held high
Look, Momma, there's our girl, getting ready to give her wings a try
Wasn't it just yesterday she was afraid of the monsters under the bed?
Now she's off to college, her own path to tread
Wearing Grandma's pearls & a gown of antique white
Now, Momma, don't start fussing, everything will be all right
Wasn't it just yesterday, I was wishing she was talking?
Now the music is playing & down the aisle we're walking
Wearing Grandpa's boots & cowboy hat & nothing in between
Why Grandma ain't that the prettiest grandbaby you've ever seen?
Now listen, Sassy, don't go wishing for her to grow up so fast
Treasure each & every moment, create a memory to last
Be mindful of what you wish for when your babes are small
For in just the blink of an eye, they won't be small at all
You dream of turning back the clock & know you never will
For time flies, just as surely as you wish it would stand still
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
Lovely little ladybug
Lovely little thing
Lovely little melody
Made from simple dreams
You think you know all you see
But nothing is ever as it seems
You don’t know much of anything
'Cause this Worlds much bigger than you or me
But don’t you worry Little one
We have the skies and we have the Sun
You have my heart now take my Hand
And we can ride to our promise Land
< Now hold on there Tex !
Let me get dressed !
Let me saddle up my horse
To trollop around this Halloween course
Got on my chaps
My spurs and cowboy hat
Replica's of forty five's
Riding on my hips very high
With lasso in my hand
This little cowboy has a plan
So all you ghost and goblins
It's candies bounty I'll be coming an robbing
And I'll be taking loot for mummy
And for my daddy who has a bigger tummy
Happy Halloween To All
Especially little tikes who are so cute and small
Halloween Costume Contest
There’s a legacy inside him,
As he sits upon his steed;
His heart is filled with honesty,
Not perjury or greed;
He rides the same old range,
That his father rode before;
And it’s been that way for forever,
A hundred years or more;
Pushin’ cattle, brandin’ calves,
That is a cowboy’s life;
Someday he may settle down,
And make some girl his wife;
He’s spent so many lonely nights,
Sleeping under the stars,
He hasn’t got a tattoo,
What he has are battle scars;
There’s a rip across his stomach,
From a rangy longhorn steer;
And even though it hurt like hell,
He never shed a tear;
He always outs on a brave face,
Emotions locked inside;
And for his cowboy heritage,
He feels only pride.
Hey there Buckaroo
what’s your hurry?
Momma hollered after
her pride ‘n joy
she smiled swiftly
as little boots clomped
with spurs jingle janglin’
across the kitchen floor
“Aw Momma, don’t worry!
I’ll be home before dinner
but I drew the rank bronc
It’s a sure winner!”
Then whistling Lil Joe
and roping the cat
her boy mounted up
on his trusty hobby horse
“Don’t slam the door”
She said with a laugh
has the hinges rattled
& the old screen door crashed
He was already gone
riding silver screen dreams
that old grey black hat
setting low on his ears
Hey there Lil Buckaroo
Don’t be in such a hurry
Time passes quick enough
You still have stick ponies to curry
Too soon you’ll grow tall
& become a young man
chasing girls & fast cars
enjoy your childhood while you can
In a blink of an eye
or faster than that
you’ll no longer wear boots
toss a rope or wear that old hat
You’ll follow your own path
but where ever it leads
I hope you remember
Your Lil Buckaroo deeds
Hey Lil Buckaroo
slow down, what’s your hurry?
Don’t gallop too quickly
through these Buckaroo Days
© February 2003
Riding the quarter slot pony
at Woolworth’s five & dime
Would send this half pint cowgirl
back to another time
I was Calamity Jane riding hell bent
to bring the US mail,
Annie Oakley, with dead eye aim,
shooting lint specks off a nail,
In my games of Cowboy & Indian
everyone would win
The Lone Ranger & Tonto
were my two bestest friends
Out in the back yard,
on my old swing set
I created memories
that I will never forget
I would swing & sing for hours
loud enough for the world to hear
I rode the meanest broncs
never showed a bit of fear
I dreamed of Being like Tad or Fox
Weren’t nobody putting me in a china box
while momma dreamed of frills & lace
In my dreams, I always rode ahead of the race
I always wore a white hat
& never lost a fight
Evil wore a black hat
& a heart as black as night
I find myself wishing
more often here of late
That I could return again
to that childhood age of eight
When everything made more sense
& innocence wasn’t lost
I wonder, if I turned back time,
what would be the cost?
© April 2005
He's the last of the suburban cowboys
At the end of the cul-de-sac.
Oh, he may still have that Western Channel
To bring his memories right back--
But those days of Roy Rogers and Trigger,
They're now just fading to black--
He's riding alone in his condo home
And that's the gall dern sad fact.
He ate those sweet Sugar Pops with ol' Jingles--
Watched all those westerns on TV--
Drank down all that cold milk for Hopalong--
Wore cowboy hats and boots with glee.
He had him a fine Rifleman's rifle,
Gene Autry's new cap guns for kids to see--
But he sure did hate all that real estate
That kept him from being free.
He may be the last suburban cowboy
'Cause kids now do the video game--
But in his mind he's still young Rex Allen
Riding over that painted plain.
But he likes to think the guys in white hats
Have not all gone down in a flame--
'Cause deep in his heart there still is a part
That seeks out the cowboy's name.
or tired love?
and weak games
Look at you!
Your such a lame!
Me cry?! Ha! Not no more!
Five point five years
What a joke?!
All you do is lie
Keep smoking your life away!
Wake up before its too late!
Before this love turns into hate!
Your too old to act this way!
Your too comfortable
You cant stay!
In my life!
In my way!
Goodbye to you!!!
You’ve just been born.
You’re a brand new kid.
When you first learned to walk
you stumbled a bit.
When you didn’t get your way
you threw your 2 year old fit.
Now you’ve started kindergarten
And you’re learning how to add 2+2.
You’re so excited about your first field trip
to the zoo.
Now you have just started 8th grade
and your trying to find yourself.
But remember that your destiny isn’t found on
You are now 18 and your
at your graduation.
Your not sure which college you should go to,
maybe somewhere across the nation.
You’re now 32 years old
and you are married and have 2 kids.
You watch them walk
and stumble. You watch them
throw a fit.
You watch them as they tell you all about their
first field trip.
You watch them find themselves
and you watch them
at their graduation.
You watch as they get older
and have their own kids to watch