These Animal Cowboy poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Animal. These are the best examples of Animal Cowboy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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
In a forest in the middle of the great Shoshone,
my instincts tell me I'm not alone.
I pause for a moment and listen for two,
silence sometimes is not a virtue.
I start back toward my trek that I have set,
but the snap of a twig stands the hairs on my neck.
I turn quickly to see what it is,
running straight at me is a 900 pound Griz.
So I dropped my pack which detours him long enough,
for me to make my way down to the nearest bluff.
I jumped with all my might for a low hanging branch.
That Griz toppled down the bluff barely scrapping a path.
Now to say this old bear was just a little perturbed,
wouldn't at all be how I'd describe the whole blur.
He picked himself up and shook that tree,
and I felt like an apple about to leave.
He roared and snarled and scratched and clawed,
but I was just a bit too high for the ole boys claws.
He shook and pushed and growled some more ,
till finally he just stopped and sat there on the forest floor.
He looked up at me and I at him,
And I knew that I was the lunch he was thinkin,
so we sat there staring for an hour or so,
the next thing ya know I had to go.
So I did what I had to right on that old bear.
I think it must have startled him, which is somewhat kinda rare.
that ole boy lit out of there screaming like he was fire,
guess that left a taste a little less to desire.
So I climbed back down and went on my way,
never again to see that old Griz to this day.
I guess the moral here is; if your ever treed by a Griz,
don't be afraid,
to just let it whizzzzz.
In the middle of the country
squared off and low-key,
sits the least populated state in the union.
It's wide open spaces, there to remind us,
of the West, without any confusion.
It's mountain peaks,
over ten thousand feet,
dot the landscape of a topo map.
The valleys in between run rivers and streams,
of fishing holes not yet tapped.
The people all greet you,
with a Howdy or Hello,
or a tip of the hat to let you know,
they respect your space, religion or race,
That's how we do it; in old Wyo.
Natures best right here in the West,
just East of the Rocky Divide.
Capture's the imagination,
of the way it was; traveling,
on a wagon-train ride.
Miles and Miles of open land,
yet the Eagle see's it all,
from his predacious flight plan.
Prairie Dogs whistle a shrill alert,
retreat my friends or be Eagle desert.
Antelope scrub their sent glands,
on every sage brush around.
While the Badger just waddles,
his waddling way, to where ever,
the next home, can be found.
Wild Horses still roam on their grassland home,
Just West of the Big Horn Mountains.
While Buffalo still graze,
in old Yellowstone,
Next to mud-pots, geysers and fountains.
Oh; Wyoming, land of my heart,
If Heaven is anything like you,
then I pray this day,
I make it your way,
after I'm dead and buried and forgotten.