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Cowboy Inspirational Poems | Cowboy Poems About Inspirational

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

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Details | Quatrain | |


The ranch on which I hang my hat, though short on most the frills,
Is thirteen sections, give or take, of rugged trails an’ hills.
We call it ‘home’, our little world, our very own frontier,
Amongst the cattle, sheep an' goats; the varmints, hogs an' deer.

Today I watched the breakin' dawn an' whiffed the mornin' air,
A time I often set aside for things like thought an' prayer.
A Mockin'bird an' Mornin' Dove, an' other birds at play,
Were there to sing an' set the mood to start another day.

This mornin' saw the strangest thing, like time itself had merged,
An' all the souls who once were here, appeared an' then converged.
In swirlin' clouds of mist an' fog, right off the bluffs they rolled,
Till all had gathered in the glen, the modern an' the old.

The Indians, conquistadors, an' other ancient men,
The soldiers from this country's wars, an' cowboys from back when…
They all had come from yesterday to help me understand
Our link with those who came before, to heritage an' land.

A crazy notion, so I thought, that they could just appear,
But as the morning went along the reason got real clear.
They rode along with me that day to show me things I’ve missed,
The things I’ve seen a thousand times an’ some I’d just dismissed.

Those wagon roads of long ago, still evident today,
Are carved in rock an' rutted earth, not apt to wash away.
They linked the missions, forts an' towns those many years gone by;
An' left their mark for all to see, as modern times grew nigh.

The artifacts an' weathered ruins attest to yesterdays,
When others came an' lived their lives in very different ways.
We've seen their skill in arrowheads they honed from fired stone,
An' craftsmanship in beads an' tools they fashioned out of bone.

At ever turn and trail we took was something to remind,
The Maker must have had a plan laid out for humankind.
The Earth He made’s been feedin' us a half-a-million years,
An' used it's wonder, force an' change to challenge pioneers.

I do not know if they'll return or if they’ll feel the need,
But I’m prepared to ride the trail, where ever it may lead.
We all are spirits ridin’ time with bodies of the Earth,
Whose time has come to take the reins an’ offer up our worth.

The land has been the legacy we cultivate an’ reap,
The life has been the heritage our father’s fought to keep,
An’ we are bound throughout our time with those who came before,
To put our hearts and souls to it, and make it something more.

Copyright © Jim Fish

Details | Verse | |

The Winds of Time

One day I was passing time
And wrote these words upon the lines,
I know not where they came you see
The Winds of Time were there for me.

If I could open a door to the past
And there before me were the paths
I'm not quite sure which I would choose
But The Winds of Time would see me through.

The vastness there before God's Hand
Then came the heavens, the seas, the land
Eden, Noah and the Christ Child's birth
Is the path that I see first.

I'm not into Knights or dragon days,
Nor Robin Hood and his saving ways,
But give me a Viking as he crosses the seas
And I'll dream of the lands so wild and free.

The music of Irland calls to me,
Where Kathleen's heart has ever been,
And for Danny Boy the fifes do call
I'll shed my tears lest he should fall.

As Immigrants touched upon our shores
The Indians prepared to fight once more,
But fate stepped in and eased the sore
They'd live in peace forever more.

The  battles fought upon this land
To protect us from Tierney's hand,
The Civil War for Freedom's right
The Alamo where comrades died.

At Little Big Horn where our soldiers died,
As Indians defend their homes with pride,
The government later took a hand
And put them on Reservation land. 

I remember well, when I was quite young
The days of World War II
And how my father's life did change
When the family business he assumed.

Twenty-four seven was unheard of then,
But that was their working day,
They helped keep our nations trucks on the road
Their battlefield was here in the USA.

I'll choose the path with pastures green,
Horses, cattle and the cowboy scene,
This is the land of my mother's birth
The most precious land to me on earth.

I chose this land and took a stand,
Married a cowboy and we ranched the land.
Though now retired and family gone
This land will always be our home.

The Winds of Time, know well my soul
I'll rest at night with days of yore.
And as I wake a prayer I'll say
Please God, may we have Peace today?

                       Cile Beer

Copyright © Marycile Beer

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

Copyright © Jay Loveless

Details | Rhyme | |

My Rodeo Cowboy

papa said 
son what you going to do 
with your life

now that you have 
no money job 
or wife

he said papa
I'm going to 
leave this town

think I'll
join up with the rodeo 
and break them bulls down 

Maybe even rope
me a stallion or
even a clown

Son you better
take another 
look around

for theres no money
for bull riders
thrown to the ground

or being stepped on
by a horse or bull
weighing over eight hundred pounds

Papa I promise 
Ill make you proud
of your rodeo cowboy when I'm done

And promise 
not to be thrown or bucked off
to the ground

So papa please come
visit when our show's
in town

for I'll be 
the one riding high on 
the biggest bull that's found

hanging on for just 
eight seconds while I'm
listening for that bells sound

just kicking those sides
of horses and bulls
jumping up and down

with coming out your
top rodeo champion and
bull rider found

Tribute To
The Rodeo Cowboys 
and Cowgirls

Hang Tough

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Cowboy | |

Chance Encounter

   A thousand times I have heard, 
“There but for the Grace of God...” 
but until today that phrase, 
struck me as somewhat odd. 
   The old Cowboy who staggered by, 
was three sheets to the wind. 
but he swept off his hat before me, 
and at the waist did bend. 
   “Fair Lady, how goes your day?”, 
he asked as he deeply bowed, 
his face was flush, but his manner gentile, 
and he spoke clearly, though not loud. 
   The politeness of his question, 
had completely caught me off guard. 
I looked into his wind-burned face, 
and saw a look that was not hard. 
   “My day goes well, and thank you sir.” 
was my own courteous reply. 
As I gave a small curtsy and a smile, 
I saw a twinkle in his eye. 
   “Oh surely, Lovely Lady, 
you have truly made my day.” 
He put on his hat, caught his bearings, 
and sauntered on his way. 
   No one else along the street, 
looked directly at him or spoke. 
Some looked away, while others laughed, 
and and made him the point of their joke. 

   I alone had been blessed, 
only I knew what lay inside, 
for it had been revealed to me, 
what rumpled clothes and liquor hide. 
   I had seen a gentleman, 
a Cowboy tried and true, 
with manners most becoming, 
a Real Man, through and through. 
   I was allowed to look past the fact, 
that he was poorly dressed and shod, 
I had seen the inside of a Heart, 
and the Grace placed there by God.

Copyright © Debra Coppinger Hill

Details | Lyric | |

Ride Em Cowboy

                                my heroes have alway's been cowboys
                                                  so giddyup go 
                                         my ghost riders in the sky
                                              let that whiskey river
                                     flow through luckenback texas
                                     for I'm a rhinestone cowboy 
                                                      the gambler
                                                     running bear
                                         just  a coca cola cowboy
                                               headed for El Paso
                                     strumming my teddy bear song
                                         cross the brazos at wacco
                                        at the 'Y' all come back saloon
                                    just waiting for Poncho and Lefty
                                      bringing that white lightning
                                wild horses and that burning ring of fire
                                           stays gentle on my mind
                               for all my rowdy friends have settled down
                           And it wasn't God who made honkey tonk angels
                               it was the daydreams about night things
                     So mamas don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys
                                      For I'll go to my grave lovin you

Tribute To Country's Best
The Lonesome Cowboy

Also Trying a new gig lol

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Lyric | |

Hard Headed Women

<                                        she's a hard headed woman
                                          lovin a soft hearted man 

                                          when they get together
                                          they join hand and hand
                                          for loves be glory
                                          in this fairy tales story

                                          for she's a hard headed women
                                          lovin a soft hearted man

                                          a hard headed woman
                                          lovin that soft hearted man

                                          though shes stubborn as an mule
                                          but can make that man still drool
                                          as he's so shy
                                          but  captured her roving eye

                                          for she's a hard headed woman
                                          lovin a soft hearted man

                                          a hard headed woman
                                          lovin that soft hearted man

                                          now don't you just think
                                          romance can start out as a wink
                                          even if it may be a little lie
                                          come on little boy now give it a try

                                          for she's a hard headed woman
                                          lovin a soft hearted man

                                          a hard headed woman
                                          lovin that soft harded man

My Next 
Country Western Song   LOL

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Rhyme | |

The Cowboy Way

Watch those buckaroos lose their insides when saddled to a wild one untied it’s fer a sight when they ride . Yiddy –up was the wail when a bull of a devil left his trail some kinda fight on the road to hell.
No wonder I headed for Whiskey Row with some forty drinks down below sure is thunder in your hole will rock your soul as you face the mighty cold.
Strums my guitar and softly singing as the cowboys are around the camp fire ringing as the fire is blazinin another day is hazing. Got the notion for prayin as another cowboy was payin and he was sayin
Lord ya know the deeds I’ve done and in the shadows I have hung I just wanted  to be thankful for meeting me on this fateful day and in  thy range I will forever stay.
Vanita Allgood	

Copyright © Vanita Allgood

Details | Cowboy | |

The Farmer and The Cowboy / Deuteronomy 11:13

The Farmer woke, 
Before break of day, 
And for a little rain did pray. 
Then hitched his team, 
And plowed the land, 
Given him by the Master’s hand. 
The Cowboy awoke, 
And a prayer he sighed, 
“Please give us rain, for the prairie is dry.” 
Then in the heat, 
He did rope and brand, 
The cattle given him by the Master’s hand. 
At night, before sleep, 
The Farmer read, 
The words from the Bible that God had said, 
“If you’ll keep my Commandments, 
In it’s season I’ll make it rain, 
And you shall eat, 
And your land shall fill with grain.” 
The Cowboy fell asleep remembering, 
A verse his Ma had read, 
A promise God made and the words he said, 
“Love and serve the Lord God, 
And it shall come to pass, 
That I shall make it rain, 
And for the cattle, there shall be grass.” 
So each resolved, in his own way, 
To be a better man, 
And follow closely the Commandments, 
And there-fore save the land. 
And though they never met, 
They prayed for the same thing, 
And watched the sky for the clouds, 
And the rain that they would bring. 
And though it was long in coming, 
The drops fell upon the land, 
And revived and refreshed these special places, 
Given by the Master’s hand. 
The Farmer and the Cowboy, 
Each prayed for the land of which they were fond, 
And through their belief, they saved the Earth, 
Through the Lord’s Common Bond.

Copyright © Debra Coppinger Hill

Details | Tanka | |

What A Beauty

<                                    beneath swollen ..... moon
                                      in pasture of...... rolling hills
                                      standing  ....hind quarters
                                      a beautiful black ...... stallion
                                      simply took my breath ........ away

Entry For
Rick Parise's 
A Memory Of Beauty
Tanka Contest
G.L. All

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |


Oh lord hear the lonesome cowboys lullaby, singing beneath
The vast prairie open sky.
Hush, do they not lull the restless cattle to sleep, by a soft
Undertones sweet melody.
Drifting plains men, singing of the sorrows broken hearted,
And dreaming visions of their beloved, they've left behind.
Guitar strumming minstrels, of the fire hearth, accented
By the lone harmonica, playing off in the distance
Amongst a sea of cows, and horses.
In harmonic rhythm is this grassroots orchestra, as the fiddler
Strikes up his bow to join in, and playing ever so gently along,
To harmony's rhythm.
On the rocky cliffs mixed in the sandy dunes, the heckling
Coyotes, give an eerie ambiance, to this old western chorus.
Do these desert whyly creatures, howl in perfections tune,
To the wrangler's musical beat, of these wide grassy expanses,
That they all call home.
The rattler shakes it's tail in defiance, against the munching
Prairie dog, whom got away at the last moment.
Listen closely to the sounds of the meadow-lands, does not the crickets,
And locusts, add a natural flavor by their clicking and chirping.
Near the rivers stream, as the winds do blow, along the waters edge,
Another elements assent, is bestowed by the forcing of the reeds, to
Bend hitting them against the hollow log, causing a thumping's,
Drumming, to this uniquest of bands.
As twilight's distant starlight, flickering in the vast
Blackness above, these rambling souls whom wander so.
Down these dusty trails long journey, yearn for nothing
More than to know the quite serenity, of their home
That seems so far away.
Let your music fill your emptiness, for one nights
Beautiful dream, and remember the memory as if it
Were real, a vivid vision of illusion, and rest
In complete bliss, good night my young
Cowboy of the open sky.


Copyright © cherl dunn

Details | Free verse | |


A lone rider sits high in the saddle,
As the horizon's sunrise spreads across,
The open prairie.
Twin pearl handed pistols rest at his side,
As rusty spires clang against wooden planks,
At the deadwood saloon.
Legends cowboys whisper his name,
On the dry desert winds,
A giant of a man whom breathed
Life again into the legacy,
 Of the old west.
His side swagger's walk trademark
On the larger than a life screen.
The duke truly represents the great 
American hero on horse back.
Six shooters drawn at high noon's 
Count down,
John Wayne's the trail dusts equalizer,
He always remained on the right side,
Of tin stars law.
The tumble weeds rolls along a dirt path,
As tall cactus stand on an arried canvas,
Life here is harsh and mean,
Where only the strong survive.
Bold individuals with the inner
Strength against god's forbidden land.
Harden men whom lived by one simple,
Rule I will do what ever it takes
To stay alive.
He'll join the ghost riders,
Forever driving the lords herds
Across the grand divides vast
Prairie sky’s as the sunsets
In the old west.
Alone figure rides high in saddle,
Set against a legends back drop,
Hell bound for glory,
In a cloud of gun smokes fog,
Behold the duke emerges,
With his hat on straight
And gun at the ready.


Copyright © cherl dunn

Details | Limerick | |

The Naked Truth

<                                our top story tonight is Lawyers
                                  a pain in the ass and real spoilers
                                  with  fancy cars homes suits
                                  fifteen hundred kaboot
                                  rather hire cowboy wearing just spurs

Entry For Carolyn Devonshire's 
Lawyer Limerick's Contest

GL All

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Cowboy | |

On Juno Ranch, A Cowboy's Day

If you'd have lived and worked on Juno Ranch, you’d have come away better for it. It 
may not have seemed like it at the time but Pancho (Uncle Frank) would put it to you, an’ it 
was for you to decide to do it, what to do with it, or to fight. The motto was, “You either work 
or fight, there ain’t no quittin’ on this-here ranch.”

     Pancho cultivated a reputation as a living legend in his fifty-some years in the Devil’s 
River country of the Texas frontier. He loved his life, family, work and felt plumb lucky to be 
livin’ it. He believed there was art in every undertakin’ an’ practiced the highest standards in 
dealin’ with any an’ all comers. He savvied horses, cattle an’ the land; and death was just the 
gate that opened into higher pastures.

     Ride 'em Pancho!

The cowboy wakes before each dawn With blurry eyes n'a mournful yawn; Gets breakfast down, just bacon'n eggs, An' biscuits dunked in coffee dregs. He feeds the stock some oats an' hay In growin' light of break o' day. Then Pancho comes an' rigs a hoss, An' chews his butt, 'cause he's the boss. “The sun is up, you little bride! We're loosin' light! We gotta ride!” So they ride out to make their rounds In echoed clops of hoof-beat sounds. The sun is high 'bout half-passed noon, An' dinnertime is none too soon. He eats his beans an' taters fast, Then rolls a smoke an' rests at last. He dreams of how he'll spend his pay When he's in town on Saturday, An' where he'll go to have some fun With gals who'll laugh and call him, "Hun..." He gets his hat an' pulls it down, Forgets the dream of gals in town, Cause if he ain't just damn near dead, The work comes first on Pancho's spread.

Copyright © Jim Fish

Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ghosts of South Dakota Intro

	In 1957 I took my teaching certificate back to the land of my mother.  
She was raised on a cattle ranch in the north central area of Nebraska.  The 
famous Sand Hills.  It was there I found my cowboy and we ranched for fourteen 
years on the eastern edge of the Rosebud Reservation in South Dakota.  The 
teacher in this story is my mother's sister and our experiences at the Indian 
Government School of Spring Creek during my early years.
	In the year 2002 Cowboy and I moved to a very special town, Harper, 
Kansas.  This town is just a few miles down the road from the memories of my 
Kansas childhood. How lucky to be able to have all of these memories and with 
the help of God maybe another dozen or so years down the road I'll have another 
set of memories to pass on to another generation.   


	Yesterday I was sitting at my computer working  when I looked out of 
my magic window 
and noticed the swing set.  The wind was fiercely blowing up a gale and the 
swings were rocking to and fro.  That didn't bother me, but when I saw the glider 
was in motion, I didn't even have to close my eyes to picture the children playing 
on it.  They weren't my grandchildren.  They weren't my children.  They weren't any 
children I could recognize, but I felt blessed.  I didn't care who they were, they 
were happy.
	And then I thought back.  Back to the reservation.  I could hear the 
laughter of the Indian children, but whenever we came into view they would run to 
hide behind their mothers or grandmothers and peek around at us.  Some of the 
older ones, seven, eight, nine or ten year olds would line up in front of the shack 
or tent to stare at us.
	I can still see them dressed in faded, wrinkled, soiled clothing.  
Disgards from who knows where that ended up at the mission.  Their large 
round brown eyes staring from behind the greasy scraggly black hair. Some with 
their dirty fingers stuffed in their mouths. The little ones clinging desperately to 
the skirt as they peered around at us,  always had snout trailing from their nose, 
and their feet were either bare or encased in shoes three sizes to large for them.
	I don't know if it was a tradition of some kind but it seems, in my 
memory, there were never any men.  Only women and children came forth.  I 
have my ideas where the men were but I shall not go into that here.

Copyright © Marycile Beer

Details | Kwansaba | |

Shiny Minded Stone

"What's your story?"
she questions,
"you seem interesting."

wildflower eyes
I reply, "NOW."                                                                    (Kwan$aba! Ha! Really, 

often people become confused                                                    
by such a unique response                                                            
not this one...                                                                                
she's a beauty                                                                       
shiny minded stone                                                                  
lives warm under veins
lacks definition of alone

tho solo she stands
tallest green blade
each time the oily blade passes above

she stays the same
tingling pulses exhale her pores
she'd rather sink
than have to think the way of worldly whores

malice skips her
no ripples in the lake
dripping from her face
sunshine slips across tangerine cheeks

gold flows throughout waves 
streaming locks
sky clear eyes surprise those
choosing to be consumed 
by her entice

hands free of envy
no webs to spin
hips unmolested
thighs slick

be warned
she will divide you
no voodoo 
or silly twisted games
though safe may escape you

the girl
baby of zero maybes
she knows

as clarity lent us its giant umbrella 
her lipstick smacked my tongue 
from there
we never looked back


Copyright © JSLambert Mister ROBOTO

Details | Carpe Diem | |


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.

Copyright © Sam Ruby

Details | Rhyme | |

The Sun Will Shine Again

A great storm came and your world was left in the dark, You tried your best but you failed to leave a mark! You stepped that thorn Now your heart is torn... You're questioning why you were born! Just remember, the sun will shine again! Dont let your teardrops fall like rain! Stay strong, avoid the growing pain. Those dark clouds will eventually move on Soon that pain will finally be gone. Its not a promise Thats just the way it is- Tough times dont last forever Tough people never say never! That heartache will soon go away All you need is to constantly pray And hope for a better day Because soon, and very soon, the sun will shine again! Faith must reside in you For some days the sky will be blue And others the sky will be dark! Those times When the sun may fail to shine through Always find strength inside of you to hold on to! So when you're hanging in there in the dark- Wait in faith for that spark, For its obvious, the sun will shine again! -Titus Kirega

Copyright © Titus Kirega

Details | Couplet | |

Fastest Gun In The West

<                                      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

Entry For 
Halloween Costume Contest
G.L. All




Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Limerick | |

Trader Joe

<                           once there was a man named trader Joe
                             could do nothing with hair so let grow
                             under big coonskin hat
                             fleas tick and his pet rat
                             mercantile's just say Oh Hell No

                            once there was saloon name lucky spur
                            where traders brought in their hunted furs
                            in walks old trader Joe
                            miss Molly said let's go
                            now both itch scratch from leftover burrs

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Free verse | |

Ranch Hand Sunset.

Upon the flushing milieu of twilight,
     Vague shadows of the ranch hands brook.

 A proud slow march on hackneyed legs,
     In the slow emergence of autumn’s dusk.

Today’s sullied labor grimes the worn denim chaps,
     In the dawn to dusk harvest of the seasons haying.

An aching exhaustion on sweat muddied faces,
     The price and the pride of the old rancher’s toils.

Barns piled high from the summers green fields,
      The homestead prepares for the silver of winter.

Lost in the muted glow of sunset’s backdrop,
     The prairie echoes thanks with a soft cowboy song. 

Copyright © Charles Fuller

Details | Cowboy | |

' As Old As East Of Eden ... (A Cowboy Song) Cowboy Poem # 15

          Tears - Are As Old
         … As East Of Eden

           Pain - Is As Old
         … As East Of Eden

          Woes - Are As Old
         … As East Of Eden …

That’s Why The Cowboy … Rides West
And Disappears, Into The Flaming Sunsets …     ( Gen. 3: 23, 24 )

Copyright © MoonBee Canady

Details | Cowboy | |

God Must Be a Cowboy

He must sit back and just smile at sunsets;
The colors and quiet must give him great joy—
As do the sweet sage and morning violets;
God must be a cowboy.

He breathes life in the wind on the prairie
And sustains the green earth with the soft rain;
And he grows all the fish in the vast sea;
It is an unbroken chain.

Oh, you can hear him creak that old saddle
As he rounds up the skies and the whole earth range;
His eyes are on us and he’s not idle.
The only constant is change.

Yes, He rides beside us in gold grasses
And He watches our bedroll every night;
He helps us over all the high passes
And teaches us to do right.

And meekly we speak of Him by His name
As we take great pains to please and not annoy;
Knowing when we ride off back where we came:
God must be a cowboy.    

Copyright © Glen Enloe

Details | Cowboy | |

A New Year Cowboy Toast

May your cattle drives be short ones,
May worries be small and far—
May you find peace at life’s railhead
And at long last rope your star.  

Copyright © Glen Enloe

Details | Cowboy | |

Cowboy Legacy

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.

Copyright © Tirzah Conway

Details | Verse | |

How The West Was Won

<                         O ye how the west has gone won
                           now wipe those trails of tears my son
                           dance the ring of fire for fun
                           speak and learn native ways
                           learn not to speak with riffles gun
                           rustle bacon beans  Hey !

Written By Katherine Stella 7/3/11

Entry For Dr Ram's 
Rime Couee's Contest
G.L. All

Copyright © Katherine Stella

Details | Cowboy | |










Copyright © Tye Chisholm

Details | Cowboy | |

A Cowboy Thanksgiving Toast

May you gather kin ‘round campfires
And give thanks to God on high—
May you feast and relish friendships
Before that round-up in the sky.

Copyright © Glen Enloe

Details | Lyric | |

Ride The Snake

Thy brother, strong, straight and true,
to the core, his blood flows, fast and through.
I love him dearly, ever since his birth,
what an incredible gift from mother Earth.
Mad as a cut snake, I'd hate to cross.
You did? You C@#T! Ha Ha, your loss.
Boxer and Biker, to the very core, 
F@#$%n crazy Outlaw.
His heart is enormous, as big as Ayres Rock, 
the man is solid, no muppet could knock.
F@#k yeah! 
I love him to death,
till my last rattle of breath.
Not long now to go, 
I will see him in time, 
my brother, my brother,
dear friend of mine.

Copyright © Heydon Bunting

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Let's Duke It Out

<                   Once came along an man named John Wayne
                     Winchester by his side causes more pain                           
                     Dusty trails ballroom brawls
                     Battlefield's muddy crawls
                     The duke of western inflicting gains

Copyright © Katherine Stella