Marycile Beer Poet Verse

Recollections

I saw an old cowpoke
      A riding one day
And heard him a whistling
      A song of his day.
His face it was weathered,
     His hands they were strong,
But his old bay pony
     Just loped right along.

He thought of the past,
      Of firey young men
Of roundups and brandings,
       Poker and gin.
The courage they needed
       To face each new day,
His wife and his family,
       Now far, far away.

All these things they have changed
       With the passing of time  
Now he rides all alone
        Through the dreams of his mind.


I dedicate this poem to the cowboys of my youth.
Some gentle and loving, some harsh and crude.  This
only added to their allure.  A kid's dreams, spoon-fed
by their mystic lore.  God Bless You,  you have enriched
my life.

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