Cowboy Grief Poems | Cowboy Poems About Grief
These Cowboy Grief poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Grief. These are the best examples of Cowboy Grief poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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otra vez,otra vez`
I do, say and say again
I am the rock star of the ring
I risk my life again and again for fame,
Some might think of my passion
As just being poetic and practical
Or simply culture or unethical
However, nevertheless not when my life is on the line
Stronger than a herd of Buffaloes
Faster than the
Speed of a race horse,
He is now broken free of his corral
A streak of fury, rushes me
Despite my fear of dying,
My main focus is to
Take the bull down by its horn
I looked deep into his eyes,
I saw mingling of rage
I carefully swung the cape,
A taunt of furling red
Aiming for its horns
The crowd roars, while
The old ladies sob for the bull
The men cheers for
Salvatore the Matador
Nothing more stimulating than the ladies
with the beautiful smiles
The bull is going to die
Copyright © Annie Lander | Year Posted 2013
Having seen time and time again
Our rise and fall
and watched what passes between,
my reflection stays the same
As I ride through brush and the grass
late in the evening.
And as the sun might spill on the sights
while also casting shadows far
in elongated flight jetting towards night,
high above and below alike
another day is reclaimed by the west.
Within the balance that's struck
High up on a horse's back
lies within that creaking tack
a way the minutia from many nights and days
can all but fade for the fluid movements connecting them.
And life again is like a lucid dream in passing.
I hadn't noticed it at first,
But the evening brings a subtle breeze
as if a response to the sunset, gleaming
and facing the applause I pause and watch
as the wind runs its fingers trough the hair
of it's beloved.
Caressing with such tenderness
Either on inspiration or plotted action
This moment they share, along with their sadness to part.
Yet, they both know the flower of this coming spring
will not grow alone.
And so, the grass and wind always promise to unite again,
when the time is right.
Heedless of the deepest sleep, most distant dreams,
or faced with the contrasts
their lives have seen.
To carry on their roles, by all means
they’ve never let go
of how high hopes can lead to things
far greater than them both.
-and someday so will I
Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016