Cowboy Sister Poems | Cowboy Poems About Sister
These Cowboy Sister poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Sister. These are the best examples of Cowboy Sister poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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My sister said, "Let's go dancing.""Not a chance."
"I don't know how. I don't know how to dance."
"They give beginner's lessons at The Yellow Rose.”
"They'll have a live band to keep you on your toes."
I gave in to her begging and gathered up my spunk.
Those at the Rose were probably already drunk.
So I said, "What the heck; how hard's it gonna be?
Those guys are too busy to watch the likes of me."
In most of my endeavors, it's always been my fate,
there's some hidden truth that I didn't anticipate.
Every song had a different dance, no two were the same.
I stood with eyes popping, thinking this was insane.
"What kind of style is this?" I muttered, watching the dancing.
They were clapping and yelling,, twirling and prancing;
with thumbs hooked in pockets and fancy boots on their feet,
they shuffled, hitched and swayed to a crazy country beat.
Not dancing with one another, they formed a perfect line,
turning and bumping hips and stomping in double time.
They even did a Cha Cha,, a Charleston step or two,
Cheater's Waltz and Black Velvet, twining through.
Sister said, "Come on, let's go!" Well, it's do or die,
maybe I'll flop, maybe not. I'll never know, unless I try.
I wound up teaching beginners at West Side Senior Center,
and at local "Silver Games," became a gold medal winner!
I performed with the gang at nearby nursing homes,
in matching western costumes and sequins in our combs.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014
The March of Rhymes
Although the notion of the twilight sun had tainted my crystal clear vision
Was there something else you have been missing
The hero calls to yonder shore once again all alone;
As if a stray dog is in search of its bone,
The march rhymes lives among a passing few;
A papal pew decorated in the brilliant ambiance of fun,
With a certain crimsome tide to come undone,
Just after a police chase we so often will run to & fro;
Amidst the delicate fragrance of an ego,
Within smiles of timeless chartered words;
A center of reflection in the vast pyramid filled with choice,
Let us further linger in the fullest madness & rejoice
A pleasant smile still we each knew all the while;
The sore vexed temperment on the loose with cannon
The march of rhymes we shall succeed so many times
On a blade of grass she made me wait;
Some may even call this fate,
A lovely fragrant scent of fallen early morning rain;
As bullets fly through the ambiance movement in sky
Some just settle for peanut butter & jelly;
When all the while they can have a nice ham on rye,
The march od rhymes sings as the time passes by
Sometimes its just not enough but for to give it one last try?
Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2011