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Cowboy Home Poems | Cowboy Poems About Home

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

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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 | Verse | |

Where's Home

My grandaddy done went 'n tole me
Son ain't no reason ta gits skeered
Hosses air jist a little bigger
Thin what pets youse had back thar.

Now my Ma 'n Pa got married
'N off to a big town they goes
'N all them yars theys done tole me
I's 'll takes youse back home.

They war always skeered
Never lets me go no whar
Never lets me has no friens er pets
Jist made me stays up stairs.

They done went 'n died
'N lefts me all 'lone
Folks jist went 'n boxed me up
'N sends me back ta my Ma's home.

I never seed my granpa
Don't knows nuthin 'bout no rench
My folks never lets me out
Aint never had no pets.

Now I's fines myself out here with him
'N the first thin he went 'n done
Tooks me ta the barn with him
'N sits me on somethin he calls roan.

I's only six yars ol'
'N it's a long ways down from here
Thin he takes hole of a rope
'N thin I gits really skeered.

I's ain't gots nuthin ta hangs on ta
'N I's slidin side ta side
Than granpa jumps up behine me
'N takes me fer a ride.

He done had his arms round me
I's wasn't skeered then a tall
Fer they was stong 'n warm
I's knowed I wouldn't fall.

That war many yars ago
Now granpa he's done gone
I's still out here on the rench
It'll always be my home.


Details | Ballad | |

HOME

Home was just a mellow state of mind
A place a rambling man would never find
Home was anywhere the rivers flowed
Spent most of his days on the open road

Couldn't find a reason to settle down
Morning would find him in another town
Standing still was too big a price to pay
He wouldn't have it any other way

He's a dying breed standing in the rain
Longing for the sound of an old freight train
Sometimes sleeping 'neath the stars above
Living the life he's learned to love

Got all he needs strapped across his back
Too much up ahead to start looking back
Live for the moment. Don't regret the past
All the years go by so fast

In a cheap hotel on a lonely night
He felt the pain and the time was right
He prayed Dear Jesus I'll no longer roam
Tell my Father I'm coming home.


Details | Cowboy | |

Call Me Tex

When I was just a teenage lad, and growing up out west
I never wore a cowboy hat or fancy leather vest
Never put on cowboy boots or western shirts with snaps
Never wore tooled leather belts, much less a pair of chaps

To be in style the Ivy League was what one wore to school
A skinny tie and button-down was how you dressed up cool
We wore Weejun penny loafers and tapered chino slacks
The boys all sported flattops, kept up straight with wax

Rock and roll and sock hops, my dance was then the twist
Cotton-eyed Joe and two-step didn't even make the list
Good ol' Willie Nelson could hardly make a sound
'Cause the King and Frank Sinatra were the coolest guys around

But when I joined the service, and moved outside the state
It didn't matter where I went or if I spoke my name out straight
For a while I thought I had some kind of omnipresent hex
'Cause when I was outside Texas, they'd always call me Tex
 
When I said over yonder, they'd all say “Over... Where?”
When I talked about a horny toad, I'd get a funny stare
It didn't matter if my name was Buck or Roy or Rex
'Cause when I was outside Texas, they'd always call me Tex

When they shipped me overseas, I thought that I would die
Couldn't get a Dr. Pepper there, or any Frito pie
When I wanted longneck Lone Stars, all they had was Beck's
And all those Europeans would always call me Tex
 
Any label kind of burned me, so right then I made the call
I'd learn to talk just like those guys, to hide my Texas drawl
I practiced on my diction, with elocution persevered
And soon the sideways looks and grins had finally disappeared

I traveled all around the world, got married overseas
Learned myself a few more tongues and got a few degrees
Now if I talk to British lords or English-speaking Czechs
When I masticate the lingo, they never call me Tex

Finally made it home one day, after way too many years
Came back to salute old pals and maybe share some beers
I wondered how the touch of time had treated all those lads
To my surprise, those preppy guys had all turned into their dads

Each one wore a cowboy hat and dandy leather vest
Some sported a bandana, some with bola ties were dressed
Some shod those M.L. Leddy boots with fancy pull-on straps
Each had a set of bootcut jeans and western shirts with snaps

Something then came over me, something that felt right
I heard my voice inside me say "Well boys, ain't y'all a sight!”
That educated accent that I'd worked so hard to gain
Had evaporated quicker than a light West Texas rain

I guess that you can travel, and learn lots of fancy stuff
But with friends who knew you when, there's no way that you can bluff
They might be polite with you, and humor you no doubt 
But you're better off to cut it loose and let it all hang out

They all let out a holler, yelling “Waitress bring the checks!
Give 'em to that ugly hombre yonder with the handle Tex.”
Now if I were any other place, I'd likely wring their necks
But when I'm home in Texas, then you can call me Tex


Details | Free verse | |

Wild Western Blizzard

What could I really know of the breaks 
                                                                in the land
huge canyons               bleeding red              cut by the wind
with the snow swirling                                  around our tires
barns upright 
                                   and fallen to a  tumble like icebergs
windshield riming over with a crust of ice
                        we scrape madly inside
                              trying to keep cold out
speed slowing
slowing to a crawl
always on the lookout
outside line appearing and gone, 
                                                                    no worries about
cattle led inside to safety    to be watered               and fed
but what of us?
                       Will we be trapped clutching a candle
                             wanting a chocolate bar, 
                                 waiting for a tractor?
and all the flat seeming land seems to have ditches
and roof pitches and rushing trees, and a swirl
                         of slumbering snow 
                                             to lumber down in drifts and piles
no fire would ever warm us
                                                                temperature dropping
dropping 
            until finally we see it                shining in the dark
                                          a lantern at a farm
a fleet of snow mobiles to greet  us
                                                                   scurry is off 
                             before our ears turn blue, 
                                would they fall off?
Luckily, not tonight, not in this blizzard, 
                                                                      we have home.


Details | Rhyme | |

Hope life is as sweet for ya'll

Country girls are a special breed
Their love is straight from the honeycomb
The simple life is all they need
For love is the heart of their home

Sacrifice resides in their DNA
Their work is never done
Tender hearted is the country way
But so is shooting a gun!

Her horse her boots
And those painted on jeans
Are staples in a country girls life
Like her garden growing lusciously green

A day in the dirt smudged on her nose
Simple beauty from her head to her toes
Cut off shorts and white cotton top
Brings a country boys world to a stop

Fields of daisies brighten her day
Content with her neighbor miles away
Her Hilton is a musty barn full of hay
In the arms of her man where she lays

Stealing kisses 
That taste of sweet tea
Cowboy hats and Dusters 
Make her man look heavenly

The spurs the blood
Eight seconds of glory
All the dust and mud
In love with a rodeo story

A country girl dances alone
Yet together all in a line
Sisters shaking hips making a scene
Till her man arrives and twirls her 
Where dancing with class reigns supreme 

Sunday drive on a pretty back road
In a jacked up truck snuggled close
Country music and a six pack of beer
Simple pleasures the country life knows

Yes indeed we're a special breed
The country life ain't for all
But it's the only life for me it seems
Hope life is as sweet for ya'll <3
























Details | Free verse | |

Once Upon A Christmas

I stand at the window and watch the snow fall 
It's been two hours since Billy left 
The wind has built, a blizzard set in 
And I can't put my mind at rest. 

The snow has drifted blocking the road he took 
But he knows his job, the cattle must be watered and fed 
And hay for the baby calves to bed. 
"I'll be all right," he said. 

There is no school it is Christmas vacation 
The radio predicted conditions to worsen. 
With his family save and warm 
He then sets about caring for those out in the storm. 

TV and presents keep the children entertained 
While I my hair do pull. 
Dinner is ready and still Billys not home 
And with questions like "When's daddy coming home? 
And "Can I go out and play in the snow?" 

It is hard for them to understand 
It isn't just a snow fall, the danger is far to grave 
Wander to far and they could be lost 
And in turn perhaps lose their lives. 

Two o'clock, three o'clock, four o'clock came 
Finally Billy comes through the door 
Wet, exhausted and frozen to the bone 
He removed his outer garments and collapsed on the chair. 

As he ate the children came 
Excited to have daddy home 
Satisfied he was safe and sound 
They went back to their TV and games. 

Chore time came and the blizzard ruled 
I offered to do my share 
He smiled and said, "Everything's fine. 
Just the cow to milk and the pigs to feed 
And I'll be right back inside. " 

I put on my coat took shovel in hand 
And worked at clearing the path. 
In an hour it would be covered again 
But I needed to have some fresh air. 

All were in bed, the Christmas tree bright 
The Nativity set caught my eye 
Tenderly I picked up the manger, bow my head and say 
"Thank You Baby Jesus and Happy Birthday."

                                                                Cile Beer


Details | Cowboy | |

Georgia I'm Coming Home

I am sitting in this bus station, waiting to go home 
Oh Georgia its been a long, long time and I feel so all alone 
I want to feel the crisp morning wind, whispering through the pines 
Down by the river in a special spot, I called all mine 

Hey Nashville Oh Nashville you never played my songs 
And put my songs on the bottom of the pile of no play ones 
Nashville I Guess you had a lot of fun proving this Georgia boy wrong 
Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville you never played my songs 

I was a struggling song writer and not good enough for Nashville’s 
newest scene 
16th avenue was not what I figured, but I thought I met their every need 
But it just wasn’t  good enough, so I picked up my guitar left I got out 
Now out of money and with plenty of time just sitting waiting for that bus 

With no regrets and no bad feelings about the chances that I took 
I made a lot of friends, the nightlife was fun and the parties really shook 
But my heart does ache and I my pockets are empty with a big hole in 
my boots 
Now I am going down to my country home and get back  my roots 

Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville you never played my songs
Guess they got on the bottom of a pile of no play songs
Nashville I guess you had a lot of fun proving this Georgia boy wrong
Hey Nashville, Oh Nashville, You never played my song


Details | Didactic | |

Blind By Mod

Modernisation is hopping her repercussion
 Modernisation is driving her civilisation
 This is the safari; that brain the colony
 The colossal obnoxious tenets of the West
 Calling her to the deluding evacuation.

 The edifice her architect had strictly structured
 Who can dare to alter it?
 Even on her own body and soul.

 Variety upon variety, she want to put on
 That is her whisper why, she mime the day.
 A Bimbo! Mimicking the mockery of the West.

 Who is barbaric in this case?
 Reason! She revolt the reasoning
 Focus! She resist the purpose
 Loyal! She refuse the modesty.

 Let her believe this one
 That in her friction state
 Her forward (will) never; her backward (will) ever.

 Perhaps, she should recall this one
 She need to behold
 If she must to recount, in her world.


Details | Cowboy | |

Things Change

Now, I find it kind of funny how quickly things change
Once was a time when everyone wanted a home on the range
A place where they had room to stretch & grow
Out where the cattle bawl & the west winds  blow

The city folk have all gone country or so they’d like to think
Why, there are new houses going up faster than you can blink
You remember that prime grazing lease? Take another look
Its looking more & more like an architect’s pop-up book

They come out here to escape all the big city worries & trouble
They said they weren’t concerned if their commute doubled
Now they are talking of bringing a super market in
And an increase in crime spreads our deputies thin

They thought that grazing cattle made a picture quite quaint
Now those same cows holding up traffic is an oft heard complaint
They throw out words like eco-friendly & enviromental plan
then scrape the land as clean as momma’s griddle pan

Yes, everybody wants a home out on the range
And I am just a cowboy trying to reconcile the change
I watch the valley whittled down into an urban scene
 and wish that I was back again in childhood fields of green

(c) Februaury 2004


Details | Narrative | |

Life of a Cowboy

I've got me a woman, a sweet lovin' woman
So, "Why", do you ask, "am I sayin' goodbye?"
A cowboy like me, has a hankerin' to be free..
Free to be roamin' under sweet prairie skies
                                                every once in awhile,
Even tho' I'll be missin' her lovin' and kissin'
                                               and the sight of her smile.

I saddled my horse, knowing of course
That she wants me to stay....
But I kissed her goodbye, saw the tears in her eyes
                                               as I mounted my pony and trotted away
I knew she'd be grievin', because of my leavin'
But I gotta have space with walls closin' around me
I gotta get riding, where fences ain't binding.

As I ride dusty trails, I'll be hummin' a song
"The Red River Valley", or some others I've known
I'll play my guitar, harmonizing with birds
While the crickets at sundown, know all the words
Then night after night as I lay by my fire
After cooking up bacon, and some biscuits and beans
I'll think of my life, and my home and my woman
About my 'lil' darlin', and 'bout what love really means
I'll remember the good times, forgetting the bad times
I won't sleep 'cause the moonlight shines in my face
With coyotes a howlin', and the rocks in my bed roll
I'm tossin' and turnin', and for my woman I'm yearnin'

When I'm done with my roamin', ...well, then I'll be home bound
Back to my sweetheart, where you know I should be
I'll saddle my horse....knowing of course....
That I'll tell my sweet woman, I'll hang around this time....
Until that old fever gets me, and I'm scratchin' and itchin' 
Then I'll catch up my pony, throw on my old bed roll
I'll head for the mountains, smell sage on the prairie
And I'll gallop through the valley of the thick chaparral
  _________________________________________






Details | I do not know? | |

wasted talent

dribbles tackles action home run 
how often seen on the 10 o'clock  news fame is the blame for wasted talent when given the chance 
to make out the hood
and have the young look up to you what pride at what price to pay whats going on when the 
dribbles and the tackles and the action and the home runs 
are to much over your head all eyes on you at all times haters wating for your down fall wating for 
your talent to be taken away given talent taken behind bars were is the support when making it all 
the way
were are all your fans now when down and out they up and run we all fall short of glory not one of 
us can say other wise when given a gift not to many posses we tent to go astray away from whats 
real being real to your self is staying gold 
easy come easy go just as fast it can all be gone from the spot light curtains downone more name 
forgotten one more wasted talent


Details | Ballad | |

He'll be back 'round Sundown

There he goes again, takin’ off on that stud
I know he’ll come back all covered in mud.
It kills me, seein’ him leave
I’m afraid he’ll get hurt even though I know he’s not naïve.
He tells me he thinks about me while sittin’ ‘round the fire eatin’ beans
So then why does he still head out there by all means?
Herdin’ those cattle and movin’ them from town to town
Brings home the bacon, but always seems to get me down.
Seein’ my Cowboy leave breaks my heart
But when he arrives home I’m ‘specially happy we are no longer apart.
I hear his boots tiredly walkin’ up to the door
And just that alone makes me giddy galore.
I know it sounds absolutely silly
But holdin’ those rough chapped hands sure makes me happy.
When he smiles at me his nose crinkles
And I see that the long tough days have given him wrinkles.
It’s crazy how much he has changed
But I know he is still the amazin’ man I engaged.


Details | I do not know? | |

American sand "cowboystyle"

Stomp your feet to this good old beat
Clap your hands on this America sand.
Good home cooking
Pirie dog looking

Heaven sky looking
 where ever I go

Cowboy  news
Saddle horse and shoes
 Sun down in
My cowboy boots

Stomp your feet to this good old beat
Clap your hands on this America sand.
Good home cooking
Pirie dog looking

Heaven sky looking
 where ever I go

Cowboy  news
Saddle horse and shoes
 Sun down in
My cowboy boots

I tell the truth
In a telephone both
Heaven is my suit
Jesus
Coming to get you


Good home cooking
Pirie dog looking

Heaven sky looking
 where ever I go

 People Go 
here and forth
Just  to bash
 and sow
Pushing laughter through door
plump for what you reap
Then at end of the week.
stomp your feet!!!!:0


Stomp your feet to this good old beat
Clap your hands on this America sand.
Good home cooking
Pirie dog looking

Heaven sky looking
 where ever I go

Cowboy  news
Saddle horse and shoes
 Sun down in
My cowboy boots

Stomp your feet to this good old beat
Clap your hands on this America sand.
Good home cooking
Pirie dog looking

Heaven sky looking
 where ever I go

Cowboy  news
Saddle horse and shoes
 Sun down in
My cowboy boots


Details | Couplet | |

Only Two Rode Home

Three Aussie cowboys set out one morn
With old rugged faces weatherworn

As they made their way through the Outback
A croc sat watch, prepared to attack

When riders neared his nest by the stream
Two cowboys could hear the third one scream

No Crocodile Dundee came to help
As seasoned old Sam let out a yelp

The croc had pulled him off his horse
Sam quickly became the croc’s main course

The cowboys’ guns fired to no avail
For all they saw was a bit of tail

Sinking deep into flowing water
The croc had led old Sam to slaughter

Two Aussie cowboys returned that day
Crossing the stream, to tears they gave way

Old Sam had rode with them for many years
Before falling to their greatest fears

Sam’s horse they led back to their home
Through the Outback they’d not again roam



*Written for Tracie’s “A Little Bit of Aus…” contest


Details | Cowboy | |

Once Upon a Time in the West

Now, I find it kind of funny how quickly things change
Once was a time when everyone wanted a home on the range
A place where they had room to stretch & grow
Out where the cattle bawl & the west winds blow

The city folk have all gone country or so they’d like to think
Why, there are new houses going up faster than you can blink
You remember that prime grazing lease? Take another look
It’s looking more & more like an architect’s pop-up book

They come out here to escape all the big city worries & trouble
They said they weren’t concerned if their commute doubled
Now they are talking of bringing a super market in
And an increase in crime spreads our deputies thin

They thought that grazing cattle made a picture quite quaint
Now those same cows holding up traffic is an oft heard complaint
They throw out words like eco-friendly & environmental plan
Then scrape the land as clean as momma’s griddle pan

Yes, everybody wants a home out on the range
And I am just a cowboy trying to reconcile the change
I watch the valley whittled down into an urban scene
And wish that I was back again in childhood fields of green


Details | Free verse | |

Running on home

When the days of stress are here
and I just feel alone
I wish to go where my heart feels free
running through the fields in the country
Looking for frogs in a little creek
climbing a tree feeling like no one can see me
Running off and hiding in the hay loft
like it's my own secret hide out
Knowing all the little critters that lay below
are trusting me and run to the sound of my voice
Spending their days with me
Reminding myself that I'm not alone 
seeing everything I have around me
and at the end of the day
running home to my cowboy


Details | Rhyme | |

When Races Collide

My Pa said he thought it best
When we joined the wagon train heading west
He said the land is being given away
We could make a home there and forever stay.

	I am the son of a tribal chief
	Born to lead others was his belief
	Our homes the white man kept taking from us
	Our faith in the spirits we put our trust.

We heard the cries of their warring call
And circled the wagons before the fall
We were outnumbered ten to one
And prayed to God as they did come.

	Their sticks of fire echoed through the land
	Reaching much farther than our arrows can
	Horses and braves had their spirits rubbed out
	But we would prevail I had no doubt.

I saw the arrow pierce through my Pa
	I saw many braves starting to fall
Women and children were dying too
	We had to stop these white men from passing through
We started to fight hand to hand
	We couldn’t give up any more of our land
With death all around me the last man I stood
	The Great Spirit protected me, as I knew he would.

The dust settled down and I stood face to face
With the last savage Indian standing in this place
His face was painted bright yellow and red
Everyone around us was already dead.

        I looked the white beast straight in the eye
        And noticed that he was no older than I
	I was the last of my party alive
	He was the last white man to survive.

He lowered his war club and looked all around
	His stick of fire made no more sound
Then on his horse once more he got bound
	I rode back home to my sacred ground.



Entry in the Giddy Up contest


Details | Cowboy | |

if a cowboy can love

if a cowboy can love 
u are the only he will wnat to love
but as he saddle's up to ride 
u are are still in bed 

he wish u will wake up to stop him 
but as he turns back to look 
u are not there
he does not wnat to leave 
he's one and only love behind 

as he ride on in the sunset 
three months want and he's back home 
just to find u do  not come out 
and he unsaddle's the horse 
and walk in the house 
just to find you still asleep

as he wake's her up 
u come in to he's arms 
crying that he's is back home 
so fro now they still together
with kids of there own 

so now we know that a cowboy can love


Details | Cowboy | |

The Cowboy That Never Rode Home

In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
 
Far on a sparse hill it cuts the sky like a lance—
That pale, nearly white cross with just the name ‘Chance.’
He used to ride those hills and echo each valley,
Before he rode to war to make us all free.

Yes, his country called, like it had many before,
And he gladly went off to fight in that war.
There were no questions asked, no concern for the cost—
If none volunteered, our country would be lost.

Then one day the dreaded letter came, edged in black—
And we knew then, that he would never come back.
Be it rancher or mere clerk – all went off to war—
And while most returned – some would be seen no more.  

And long before there was a Memorial Day—
Our young men died for our American way—
From wars of revolution to wars of the world—
All of our soldiers fought with our flag unfurled. 

There are bright jade prairies of gray and white crosses,
That recount endless wars and many losses—
Now in meadows bloom reminders on each plain,
Marking names of those who have not died in vain.

In the palo verde and black chaparral lies,
A cross by an empty grave where no one cries.
It notes the lonely death of a man named Chance Roam—
Just a proud young cowboy that never rode home.
  
.


Details | Lyric | |

lonely traveler

traveling with no lady
i dont have no baby
my passenger seat is empty
headin to my folks house
headin to the country
right now im feelin lonely

i want a love that i dream
i wish i had a lady with me
who i can love and share everything..

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
i need a lady to come home to
i want to share my love with you

"but the call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat is empty
i have no lady traveling with me
"im lonely"

i need someone
to fill the other part of me
i need a lady
to give me what i need

i need a travaleet
i need a juliet
this traveler is so lonely

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
i need a lady to come home to
i want to share my love with you

"but they call me the"

lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat is empty
i have no lady traveling with me
"im lonely"

while im crusin down the rode
"as you can see"
she's flaggin down me
sexy lady ive never seen
she wants to take a ride with me
she asked me whats my name
"i said"
they call me
they call me...

the lonely traveler..
lonely traveler..
my passenger seat was empty
until you fill the other part of me

they call me the...
lonely traveler


Details | Free verse | |

Smiley - Take Me Home

Y'all don't believe me 
when I say I love the countryside
I'll be putting up my hen house
in the middle of the open field
Run me through the mazes
hours and hours
I'll find that little 'ole creek
I'll find what I'm searching for
that fireside music
and relaxing on the porch at night
That's where I can see myself
take things slower
and open the world
because life's a climb
but the view is great
and it's up to me how high I'll go
I'll keep searching
till I find my home
wherever that may be
Smiley - just take me home


Details | Rhyme | |

Cowboy Campfire

The sun settled over the mountains jes' 'bout two hours ago.
Now the moon is risin' in the east a-castin' its meller glow.
In the distance, howlin' wolves render a very discordant choir,
As weary, sleepy cowpokes lounge around a glowin' fire.

They've had their supper, the usual beef, beans and applesauce.
Each has seen to the comfort uv his good and faithful hoss.
They slurp cups uv steamin' coffee and each the others regale,
With talk uv wimmen, whiskey and many a towerin' tale!

It had been a long and dusty ride on the old trail today,
Roundin' up the herd and chasin' dogies gone astray.
'Round the fire some fellers enjoy a wad uv terbaccy chaw,
While others savor a roll-yer-own, fashioned by calloused claw.

Frum across the vale a harmonica's melancholy tune is heard,
As the night guard keeps vigil and soothes the restless herd.
The boys by the fire sprawl on their blankets a-gazin' at the sky,
Marvelin' at God's handiwork, thinkin' uv home with pensive sigh.

Cowboyin' is a lonely life and the rewards are mighty few.
It's fer certain the material things uv life he'll never accrue.
I s'pose some folks reckon a cowpoke's life is purty strange,
But he'll keep on a-wranglin' 'til called home to that celestial range!

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)