eyes dart with red
black, white and sepia hue
the horse slows behind
selfish cotton hide
lust, under the pale moonlight
Hearts not meant to be
A mountain covered with dust
Orion's chap- stick
Temptations broken wall
Cowboy makes his mark
As the sun rises
a young pioneer saddles his ride.
Mounting his horse
his young bride
his love as he rides
Off to find his herd.
His proud mare
goes through the prairie
next to his barb wire.
He wonders in his mind
how far have they strayed.
How many day
must I ride.
He sings aloud
a song his herd
as he rode.
On yonder hill he sees
two cows grazing along
next to their side two young calves.
He hears their cries
as he tops the hillside.
In the green valley below
he sees his lost herd.
By michael Byte 10-9-2013
I didn't want to break your heart,
I had no thought of that at all,
When I told you I'd be leaving
Right after roundup time this fall.
A cowboy's life is lonely,
With saddle, bridle and his horse,
A bedroll just to keep from freezing
When he's wandering off his course.
Your own daddy is a rancher.
He should have warned you from the start,
Should have cautioned you to never
Let a cowboy win your heart.
I'll be heading to the south lands
Until some wrangling work I find,
Didn't mean to fool you, Honey.
I didn't mean to be unkind.
If I had a stack of money,
I'd settle down, make you my wife.
Until I'm through meandering
I can't ask you to share my life.
Dry your eyes my little lady
And let me see that pretty smile.
There will be another cowboy
Who will outshine me by a mile.
If you find one with a bankroll
Who can afford a little spread,
Get your lariat and rope him,
Forget about these tears you've shed.
I'll be thinking of you, Honey
As I travel across the range,
But this cowboy is a rambler
And I expect I'll never change.
Placed 2nd in Ballad contest
I love that cowboy, lean and tall...
I see him lumber to the stall,
To cool his horse from ridin hard,
He tips his hat...says, "Howdy pard!"
I love that cowboy in his jeans,
With well-worn chaps and leather's sheen.
Those boots and spurs that fit so well...
The way he chats and sits a spell.
I love that cowboy's manly ways...
Perhaps a rumble in the hay?
He's talkin rough around the guys,
But makes this lady swoon and sigh!
I love that cowboy on a ride,
I see him ropin...tannin hides...
But what's this ringing that I hear?
His trusty cell phone...loud and clear!
Living lonely lives,
Cowboys are known for riding
Into the sunsets
8 May 2014
I guess I could feel it
The moment that plane left the ground
Things were changing and
There was nothing I could do
Waiting, impatient like a child
Haunted by old memories
Under that hat, was the face of the man
I always knew him to be
Seeing him again, after all these years
Frightened me so
I was reminded how much
He had once, meant to me
But you cant make someone love you
No matter how hard you wish
I knew he would break my heart
So I left him standing there in the night
With a tear in his eye.......
So don’t tell me cowboys don’t cry
I couldn’t take my eyes Off
his rough and calloused hands
My mind tried to imagine
All he’d been through
Life had been rough
it was written in the lines on his face
You could almost see
His heart there on his sleeve
I could feel me falling
Like I had so long ago
The girl in me was
Dreaming of kissing him again
But you can’t make someone love you
No matter how hard you wish
I knew he’d break my heart
So I left him there in the night
With a tear in his eye...
So don’t tell me cowboys don’t cry
I wanted to run but my feet wouldn’t move
I just had to turn back
to wipe that tear from his eye
then I kissed him goodbye
So don’t tell me ....cowboys don’t cry
Ive worn out these old cowboy boots to walk an endless plank of timeless dreams, you leave no trace except a tread mark of my broken heart.
I bare these wrinkeled scares to spare a portrait of this old town and country! I dared to go,is now a vivid memory of a playless rodeo I once had.
Moving on pass these stables of my home, knowing theres no way back I am sure to let go as I fleece with nothing but the wind of a wild horse where you were once my stallone, now just another spur on a pair of worn out cowboy boots, i am left to run free like: WILD HORSES.
I can remember that day…like it was just yesterday. The pain inside, was too much to
bear. As they lowered you in the ground, my world came a crashing down. No more
would I ever see your radiant smile. That day is still a blur…as I drank the night away.
Hoping it was all just a dream? But, reality came around and my emotions broke me
down…and it all came a crashing down. It took me by surprise as those tears filled my
eyes. My drink became a salty river of tears…I can still hear the Reverends last words
as he commended your body to the earth. I was around town feeling sorry for myself,
my emotions were coming down…I could still he his words as he commended you to the
earth, but my heart couldn’t let you go. As they held me back from jumping in your
grave…the emotions started to fill my soul, I was around town feeling so sorry for
myself. Try to drown my pain with whiskey and beer…but those emotions came a
tumbling down. As my drink became a salty river of tears, no more…no more…would I
ever hear your laughter, that seemed as though it could fill the ever after. Later that
night as I lay down to sleep, I reached over to that empty spot where you use to be…I
swear I could almost hear you say, “ Dry your tears, someday we will be back together
as we laugh together in this life here after…so weep no more. I’ll see you on the other
side.” As I closed my eyes, the pain began to subside…I knew one day soon I’d get to
see your radiant smile and hear your laughter.
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.
NOTE: I don't find the time, neither do I have much inclination, to write a great deal these
days. However, the occasional new piece gets composed, and this is one. I would like to take
this opportunity to thank everyone - Ruben, Raul, Andrew, Elaine, Patricia, Carol, Adeleke,
Krista, Trudi, Kristin, Bill, Shishir, Sami, James, Trudi and many, many others - who have
been so kind, supportive and appreciative both now and in the past. You are stars. I am in
I know it's not the happiest piece, but it's what I have at the moment.
Last Chance Saloon:
The deadbeat shuffle from Boardwalk to Boot Hill
Implores the synapse circuit of a short walk to the kill,
With one foot out of line one soon is gone
In Winter rains that fell all Summer long;
Never once did Zeus advise to pack a bag,
Only suck it up and tread the old main drag.
When first she shed her morals and her dress,
The channel burn adored her more than less,
Post-coital walks, romancing in the sun
Beat a path to living in the shadow of the gun;
As expectation always lets one down,
Rends the heart in two by softly skipping town.
From the stained-glass of an alcoholic haze
Wherein kaleidoscopic migraines snap and blaze,
The rusty barrelled gun scrapes at the head,
All the chambers full of coals and glowing red;
She resurfaces like some immortal doll,
And each bullet tastes of paracetamol.
So to raise the weary glass to mouth again,
To curse and toast her godforsaken name,
To down the medicine and down some more
And ride the bona-fide revolving bat-swing door;
Swear by saints alive to never leave this room,
No more chances left to chance in this last chance saloon.
Ridin' down into the canyon
Looking for some strays
I chanced to think about
The passing of the days.
Been chasing after cattle
Seems a mighty long time
And all those days I ain't be able
To save so much as a dime.
Never thought I'd get rich
Hiring out with herds
But cowboyin' and old age
Seems really for the birds.
My backside and that old saddle
Have formed a kind of warp and woof
So the leather's highly polished
And now there's snow upon my roof.
When I was a young stud
With a bellyful of fire
Living day to day was okay
And riding out for hire.
But now the cows are contankerous
And cow ponies ain't so smart
So I've started in a-wishing
I had a gal to share my heart.
There was a gal in Lubbock
With long and yellow hair
But that was a long time ago.
She's no longer there.
I remember what it was like to love
Then left alone to ache
Lonely hours in the saddle
Every memory a heartbreak.
All those years riding the range
I've had some time to think
Of the difference 'tween Hereford hides
And skin so soft and pink.
But now time and youth are gone
Left back there in the colorful past
Old horse and I are all that's left
Alone on the range as long as we last.
by E. Marshall Evans
I miss you,
I miss the warmth
In your sheepish eyes,
That unblinking look of holiness
I miss you,
I miss the sparkle
Of that breathtaking smile
That sent my heart racing for miles.
I miss you,
I miss the honesty
On your saintly face
Always promised me an old age of caress.
I miss you,
I miss the oneness
Of our last embrace
How I wish it can resurface.
I miss you,
I miss you
I miss you
Yes, I do
If I seem down
Frowns I carry around
live in me
When I break
you see right through me
GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD...
The hurt I’ve learned
brews in me
GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD...
Your words so true
If only you'd re-design me
Recreate the mold
without lies I’ve told...
GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD...
The hurt I’ve learned
brews in me
GIVE BACK THE SOUL I SOLD....
She came from out of nowhere
Her hair flowing in the breeze
Wearing a cowboy hat and boots
With denim skirt above her knees
Her steed that she rode upon
Was as white as white could be
How magnificent they looked
Both such a sight to see.
She rode up along side of me
Dismounted with such ease.
Long legs made her skirt rise up
My God, she was a tease.
Her blouse was made of satin
Undone three buttons down.
Her breasts were free and unrestrained
And tanned to a golden brown.
She said "Howdy handsome stranger,
I've been watching you for awhile,
Is it true you're a tarnished cowboy?"
She asked, with a playful smile.
I said "Yes, I'm a little tarnished,
But I can make your dreams come true.
Is that why you came riding by?
Did I cast a spell on you?"
"Oh yes, I do believe your magic
You can cast a mystic spell
I can see you're slightly tarnished.
How much more is there to tell?"
I put my arm around her neck
Our boots fell into a rhythmic stroll
My hand was hanging loose and close
To free buttons and her soul
She smiled as I spoke to her
Said "Do you really want to know?
How I got a little tarnished
Might not be a place to go."
She gazed into my eyes of blue
There was a little hint of doubt.
My mind started wondering
What was she really all about?
She said, "Listen blue eyed cowboy
I want you to talk to me
Show me what you want and need
I will do my best to please."
We spread a blanket on the ground
And together we did lay
Campfire was burning warm and bright
We made love, till the break of day
When I awoke my pretty cowgirl
Was nowhere to be seen
Was she just an apparition?
Was she just a mystic dream?
Her cowboy hat and denim skirt
Lay rumpled on the ground
I picked them up and held them
But she was nowhere to be found
Guess I will keep on dreaming
As I Hope for another chance
To lay 'long side my Mystic Cowgirl
And do another mystic lover's dance
Funny Story and unfortunately true. When I was in Prison at Pelican Bay State prison in Crescent City, Ca., one of the ways I made money or "cantene" as it was called was poetry of sorts.. I was more or less the hallmark kinda person. Writing stuff for anyone that asked and especially when they paid. I was asked to write a poem about having a pocket full of rocks. I had made the mistake of boasting that I could come up with something at least with a beginning, middle and end about anything.....anything ..........You read this and you will see how wrong I was.....or was I?
"Pocket Full of Rocks"
I had a brand new pick up truck.
A big wide screen T.V.
A house up on the hillside
beneath the shade of and old Oak Tree.
I once wore some fancy clothes.
All around the world I'd roam.
Now all I've got is what you see.
Flat broke and all alone.
I was known at every bank in town.
Had more cash than I thought I'd spend.
Both A Master Card and Visa
whose limits had no end.
I had women everywhere I turned.
More love than you could know.
Then I went and blew it all.
Where did it all go?
Now with patches on my blue jeans
and holes in both my socks,
I've a head thats full of empty dreams
and a pocket full of rocks.
No..I don't have a dog gone thing.
No car! No clothes! No house.
Hell even my best friend is gone.
Ran off with what was my spouse.
Yet I'm still fairly happy.
I can't dwell on what I had.
Cause' if I did; believe you me.
I'd be to Gaw Durn sad!
They were talking about drugs. I did not know they were talking about a drug. So you can imagine all the crap I got on this one. .... Prison sucked. I deserved to be there. (I never hurt anyone, stole or terrorized anyone) This was a very lighthearted moment in a time of my life that was anything but pleasant.
*I had no idea I was being so prophetic.........For Someone?
WHEN THE DOGWOOD IS IN BLOOM AND THE RANGE HAS TURNED TO GREEN
I WILL RIDE YOUR WAY AGAIN LIKE THE HAPPY VISION IN YOUR DREAM.
WITH THE SUN SHINING ON MY BACK ON THE TRAIL LEADING TO YOUR DOOR
I WILL COME BACK TO YOU ALWAYS IN YOUR HAPPY MEMORIES AS BEFORE.
YOU REMEMBER HOW I WORE MY HAT? SLIGHTLY TILTED TO THE SIDE?
AND HOW I ALWAYS SAT TALL IN THE SADDLE WHENEVER I WOULD RIDE?
I COULD SEE YOU WAITING THERE AND I WOULD SIT TALLER THAN A KING
MY PRIDE WOULD SWELL AND I HAD TO SMILE KNOWING YOU WORE MY RING.
WE SWAM IN THAT LITTLE BLUE HOLE BENEATH THE COTTONWOOD TREES
THEN LAY ON A BLANKET STARING AT THE STARS IN LOVE YOU AND ME.
THE HOURS WOULD PASS LIKE MINUTES AS YOU LAY THERE IN MY ARMS
I THANK GOD EACH AND EVERY DAY YOU GRACED ME WITH YOUR CHARMS.
WE TOOK LONG WALKS HAND IN HAND THROUGH THE FIELDS OF WILD FLOWERS
CHASING COTTONTAIL RABBITS AND RED SQUIRRELS TO THEIR HIGH TOWERS.
WE PUT UP THE CORN IN THE SUMMER AND GATHERED PECANS IN THE FALL
LIFE WITH YOU MY DARLING WAS WONDERFUL AS I ALWAYS WILL RECALL
DON’T WEEP FOR ME BUT REMEMBER THE GOOD TIMES THAT WE HAD TOGETHER
AND RECALL WHEN WE WALKED HAND IN HAND IT WAS ALWAYS FINE WEATHER
SO PUT ON MY COAT AND SIT ON THE PORCH AND CLOSE YOUR PRETTY EYES
I’LL COME RIDING TO YOU WHENEVER YOU WISH JUST WATCH OVER THE RISE.
I do not know?
Screaming silently for that one breath
that whirling maelstrom of beaten-down loss upon wrap-around defeat
that mercilessly shovels heaps of leaden rubble as you try to get back on your feet
mute and dumbly flailing in the raging torrent
but a mere speck of dirt on the tapestry of a world, that at times, is quite abhorrent
quietly wishing to surrender to the nothingness that seductively beckons, as you gasp
hoping against all hope that a lifeline would appear suddenly within your grasp
yet caught in the ghastly waters of unchartered isolation
a trickle of hope amidst the gushing liquid of sheer desolation
whilst holding on to slivers of sanity when blistering madness calls out to you
faltering weaknesses snap and gnaw at your state of being, out of the pristine clear blue
i have felt the pull of life's devious current as it has stripped me of my self and left me naked and bare
i fight with every suffocating breath left within
to surface and to cling onto
another gulp of life's coarse and putrid air...
I do not know?
You can tell me that you love me
But…I know that it ain’t true
Because you left on Sunday
Said you were tired of feelin' blue
So now it’sTuesday afternoon
And you’re coming around again
Well it doesn’t really matter
Cuz, I ain’t lettin’ you back in
You said that you had changed
Told me you knew you’d done me wrong
Well baby I heard that old line before
Same ole’ story same ole’ song
Cuz’ you wouldn’t know good lovin'
If it came knockin’ at your door
You wouldn’t know it now
Darlin’- you never did before
I know you well enough by now
That you’d say most anything
To get right back into my heart
When it comes to good lovin’
You don’t even know where to start
So you think that I’d believe you
With that same ole’ dance and song
Well, baby there just ain’t no way
Now go on back where you belong
Cuz, you wouldn’t know good lovin'
If it stared you in your face
Once you had me, now you’ve lost me
Go find someone else to chase
Chickasaw warrior…Apache brave
Chimed echo from recent pasts
Rawhide clad of bow and stave
Our iconic figure now cast
Roaming prairies open plains
Selfless equal within nature
A simple life of a people proud
Societies of ancient stature
Cherokee warrior…Arapaho brave
Awakened into midnight battle
Blue eyes aim down the thunder sticks
Reaping from cavalry saddles
Shunned showpieces of society
Called examples of a savage pride
Crushed of tyrannical booted propriety
In the federal wastes to reside
Tillamook warrior…Shoshone brave
Hunted through the very last stand
Forced to the brink of identity lost
Imprisoned in fenced desert sands
Allow the great spirits to soar the skies
A birthright given back anew
This aspiration for the tribes we hold
Sadly realized by consciences few
Indian warriors…fighters brave
Truest peace I offer my hand
Headdress upon the shadowy brow
Those great tribes once roaming the lands.
Sompe people may say they have the best pet, but i don't think so for i have
known a southern angel names Pam. She was a 28 year old quarter-horse
valued at about 500 thousand but to me and my family, she was priceless. She
was auburn with a white star on her head and white stockings. She was a terrefic
horse and friend, not just a family pet. But almost 3 years ago, God decied that
he wanted a prize-winning quarter-horse of his own. He took the best one that i
could think of, for there was no better than her. My uncle who also passed away
about 10 years ago decided that he had one last rodeo left in him and wanted his
favorite gal, Pam. There is no doubt in my mind that she is now a southern
angel, through and through but most of all forever!
“A Cowboy is born with a broken heart”
I once heard someone say
But it’s life’s travails
that make it seem that way
Just settle back & lend an ear
I will see if I can explain
Its every “good bye” left unspoken
every tear that’s never shed
It’s the pride you just can’t swallow
every apology left unsaid
It’s the emptiness & sorrow
you carry with you on life’s trails
It was in the way back years
must have been six or seven
I watched a strong man crumble
When I saw my Daddy cry
He’d just come from burying Grandpa
Never got to say Good Bye
We lost the ranch when I was eight
and though his dream had failed
I watched my Daddy shoulder on
Never buckling under the weight
He altered course & tried again
Heart worn & weary but he prevailed
When I was but a woman child
True love found, my forever friend
We’d talked of “Through Forever”
He rides in Heaven’s arena now
True love’s bonds the veil can’t sever
All to soon I lost him to a Brahma wild
A Cowboy’s heart isn’t broken at the very start
It’s the unspoken words and unshed tears
Its all those lonely midnight memories
that creates a Life Worn Heart
(c) January 2004
Without Christ... We Are Nothing!
You think you have everything...
"Don't need" anything more.
God says; "You are wretched, blind,
miserable and poor."
Are you content? There's
nothing "you don't need?"
Is your life filled with
self-righteousness and greed?
Jesus stands at your heart's door...
Waiting to come in.
But is the "uninvited guest,"
Do you have a form of Godliness,
but deny the power thereof?
Proclaiming to be a Christ' follower,
but void of his love?
Are you committed to a fancy building
and bright chandeliers?
For the lost souls...
Do you shed any tears?
It's time to fall in love with Jesus
and his precious word too.
He's here right now...
Waiting for you!
Only you can make the right choice.
It's your decision.
You're spiritual life will die...
If serving Jesus is not your mission...
By Jim Pemberton
Horse runs off....mine did
If your horse (lover) runs off and leaves you..
if it won't come back that's right...
just hit em over the ass with the bridle...
till they run right out of sight...
cos your bound to catch a new one ...
if you cast the rope just right...
to saddle up and mount and ride ...
right through the stormy night...
I was driving home in my Pick-up
When I saw something Strange…
… a Cowboy Sat atop His Horse
Calling Someone’s Name
He trotted on the Moonlit Trail
The man’s Face, held no Shame
As Tears were rolling down His Jaw
I saw this, Very Plain…
I could tell He was A-Hurtin’
Something was Mighty Grim
I pulled up slowly Beside
… and I asked Him …
Cowboy … It’s a Cold Night
Why are you out on the Range?
There aren’t any Cattle Here …
And There are no more wild Mustangs
It’s a Cold Night out here Cowboy
For you to take a Ride
It’s a Lonely Night out here Cowboy
With Nobody at Your Side
It’s Somethin’ you never get Used To
You can Fake it… like You Do…
… But It’s a Cold Night out here, Cowboy… Come Inside…
It’s gonna’ get Colder, Soon… You Better Hide…
… At First, He looked at the Night Sky
and then, He Turned to My Face
and Underneath the Shadowed Brim
His Eyes looked Hard and Glazed
He said, “Hon, I’m a Rare Breed
I get Real Lonely in Town
I’m More at Home, where I Roam
and Hear the Wolf and Rattlesnake – Sound
I was Once a Rodeo – Star
Now, I’m just a Wanted Outlaw
And there ain’t Nothing You Can See
That I haven’t Saw …
… except, My Son,
By my Ex-Wife – Annie
She Married my Once Best Friend, Sam
They Raising My Boy, Will, to call Him Daddy …
… and I ain’t Seen my dog, Quickdraw
In 10 Days …
… and You Think, This Cold-Spell, Could Bother Me?...”
and then, He nudged His Horse, and Galloped on His Way…
… Well, by the Time, I made it into Town
There was a Real Big Traffic Jam
Police had Blocked Off a part of The Road
and then, I heard… ‘Bam ! Bam ! … Bam ! …
… it was then, I saw the Riderless Horse
Standing Still … but Untied
And The Outlaw, Clutched His Chest
… as He Died … …
… and the Dog, Quickdraw, was Whining
by His Side …
It’s a Cold Night out here Cowboy
The Prairie Breeze was Singing
It’s a Bad Night Out Here Cowboy
The Midnight Stars Were Blinking …
They Knew You were Headed into Town
So You could Face a Final Showdown
To try to find some Heat to Warm Your Heart
… was a Cold Night, when You Decided to Depart
I was nineteen that summer
when I met him at a buck-out,
and I was totally smitten
by all the Cowboy charm he had.
I thought that he was rugged,
(and undeniably handsome),
then that bull slammed against the fence
and busted him up pretty bad.
I was surprised when he showed up at the dance,
he was battered and bruised but smiling,
and I heard him talking and laughing,
still high from the rush of the ride.
He said “You gotta’ pay the fiddler
if you want to dance to his tune”,
then he drifted across the floor,
said “Let’s dance” as he reached my side.
Mama told me I’d be sorry
if I ignored her and took up with him,
and I really hate to say it,
but I guess that she was right.
But when I review my memories
I know I’d do it all again,
for that “Eight Second Feeling”
of our first long kiss that night.
We used to dance for hours,
in the kitchen and on the porch
and laugh about owein’ that fiddler
and what his pay would be.
But lately there ain’t been no dancin’,
just long strings of awkward silence,
as his eyes look far and distant
and not so much at me.
Seems his spirit has grown uneasy,
as I listen to him talking
and realize it’s still Rodeo
that truly holds his heart.
Oh, I don’t mind coming in second,
heck, life is like that sometimes.
But knowing I’m invisible,
well, that’s the hardest part.
I suppose I should be angry,
but I just can’t find it in me,
‘cause I know what it’s like
to love something just that way.
I felt it when I first saw him,
in the arena and on the dance floor
and I still feel it sometimes
when I watch him walk away.
I’ve helped him struggle to pay the fiddler,
and it breaks my heart to see him weary,
so I stand in silent acceptance,
as I watch him pack his things.
I understand his leaving,
I know he won’t be coming back here,
our life together, a lesson,
one that time always seems to bring.
I walk out past the horse pens,
pull the gate shut…and I lock it,
hear my mare start to nicker
as the trailer pulls away.
I’d like to say I’ll miss him,
his past still holds my heart.
But we danced to the fiddler’s tune
and the final payment came due today.
Some of the local thugs were tipping their mugs in the Malamute Saloon;
The music box sat still, as the keep slammed the till and wolves howled at the moon.
Then there appeared, right back of the bar, an apparition that no one knew;
Down in the dumps, that once Queen of the Trumps, sat the lady known as Lou.
It had been thirty years to the day it appears, that the famed shooting took place,
As Lou saw the scar on the man by the bar, she slowly recognized his face;
She quickly clutched at her throat for he had gotten her goat as she turned blue;
Because for all the world, playing a solo game, sat Dangerous Dan McGrew.
The now old man that plays the music box was starting a sad waltz song,
When in drifted a miner cold from the creeks that had prospected much too long.
Though most of the gold had long left the fold, a miner’s dust still had some joys,
He relished his women, booze and smokes, and bought drinks all around for the boys.
His eyes were the eyes of a man half-dead – a man that the world’s forgotten;
And Lou did think she’d seen him before, but lately her memory was rotten.
He toasted her health and counted his wealth, then drank long with that sodden crew;
And we wished him good cheer, then hoisted our beer to Dangerous Dan McGrew.
On cold days
when the stock is gathered
near the tanks
and the steam rises from the water
and mixes with their breath
in the air,
She thinks of him
in that far away place
if he ever thinks of her...
Then she spreads the feed, scatters the hay
and talks to the horses,
Going on with this life she was born to
and chooses to stay with.
sometimes in the dusk,
as she drives back to the barn,
she hears his voice
saying he would give it all up
just for her,
if only she would say the word.
the word she said
was not the correct one.
give up the land.
It will not let her.
It demands her attention.
And he is jealous,
but unwilling to fight
for her love.
So, she hangs up her coat,
kicks off her boots,
fixes dinner for one
the evening Ag. reports.
she will write in the farm journals
kept up for generations
and now her responsibility...
“Bred heifers looking well,
no sign of sickness,
water cleared of ice,
pump still working after repair.”
She puts down her pen,
tucks herself in for the night,
and as she drifts to sleep,
she thinks of him;
And she wonders,
does he ever,
think of her...
To deceive is to believe the lie
The lie that actually claims I am what I do?
To believe is to have faith yet
Faith isn't intellectualized it just is,
In the storms of life amidst the strife we stake our claim
Not to ever play the blame game
Although we must confess,
The angels almost blushed while in a rush
Painted pony's with strange eskimo's'
Delightful days of getting lost in some purple haze;
The trip is on as we sing our final song
Filtered through its ellusive embrace;
In special reasons while lost in space
End times we claim the mark
The mark of the beast in sullen asps which fright in the night
Having long hanging viscous fangs that bite
We maybe living in the final days of evil
Shades of pine fallen asunder warm to lightning or was it thunder?
I'll be ridin' the trail alone these days,
The years have caught up with my bud,
No more will he be trottin' by our side--
That brown mutt I called Ol' Spud.
Red Roan, my hoss, will miss 'em I guess,
She keeps lookin' down at the ground--
It'll take us both a while I'll bet
To realize he's still not around.
Ol' Spud was a bird dog in his day--
He was ever since a pup,
But he lost his job of pointin' 'em out
When he et all the profits up.
I buried him deep on the land he loved,
Jest a soul that's lost to old age--
But he'll always trot right by our side
Along the whisperin' sienna sage.
She sees him still
at the river,
kneeling to drink
and get cool.
She hears his voice
in the murmur
as it empties into the stillness
of the pool.
She remembers the smell
and sage smoke.
And always she hears
in the truth-words
that he spoke.
On lonely days
she holds him close;
where he’s been.
His love is hers
as long as she sits,
his magic in.