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The Cowboy

The Cowboy A hundred thousand miles were written on his face He'd earned near every wrinkle Did this cowboy known as "Jace" He'd ridden cross the country From Death Valley up to Maine In weather full of sunshine To the roughest hurricane He owned two pair of Levis One for workin', one for church To know how long he'd been here You'd really have to search "Jace" was born in Kansas In the spring of fifty one His parents were both teachers And he was their only son Kansas was a "free" state One where slaves were free men too Where the soldiers were militia men Who served in Union Blue The fighting up in Kansas started before the civil war They were fighting over slavery For many years before The first call up was in summer Back in June of sixty one Jace's father got his papers And he left his wife and son The First Kansas Regiment Were a proud and fearsome lot They were a tougher foe to battle Than the South had at first thought "Jace's" father was a Captain In fact he had his own brigade And he was a decorated soldier For his dues,  this man had paid In October of sixty four He was riding his horse "Sleek" When we was killed by a "grey" sniper At The Battle of Marmiton Creek The news got home directly "Jace" and Mother quickly left They boarded up the house And then, they headed for the west With no father to guide him Jace became the man at home He didn't like to settle And he would much rather roam His mother passed...consumption Jace was only seventeen He was not one for mourning If you know just what I mean He needed work to get some cash He left school....and could ride And he always had his rifle Just hanging by his side He could shoot better than older men And he could ride just like the wind And even at this early age He was leathery of skin Jace joined in a cattle drive Moving eastward from the west He didn't take much time to prove He was equal to the test Roping, branding, riding herd Jace was comfortable as hell But, he rarely ever said a word Jace would hardly ever yell He would eat off from the main group Always watching, keeping post He would have his own small fire The men would call him "ghost" He never settled down at all Just rode from west to east Then turning round he'd return home His palms had now been greased He didn't spend much money He kept it in a bank back home He had a spread in Austin And he ..yep, lived there all alone Each time he'd run a herd across The country he would buy Some more land in the area Or at least, most times he'd try He had a man named Sancho Worked the ranch and kept it up and a young lad known as Felize Followed Sancho like a pup Jace would come and clean his rig Never staying past a week Then he'd be back out on the trail again On his second horse...still "Sleek" His jeans were crusted over Clay and mud from all the drives There was more age in this mans jeans Than most cats did have lives He beat them with a broom at home Never ever washed them clean He said by looking at the dirt on here I know exactly where I've been A grizzled old range  cowboy With a skin as tough as hide He was never home for very long Always waiting for the ride In Austin his ranch was just huge 14 thousand acres square But, what good was a ranch that big When he was never there "Land is something stable" "They can never make more land" "But as for cold cash money" "It's not worth a field of sand" He died while home in Austin Nineteen hundred twenty nine The market crashed around him But he said, "All this is mine" They took him back to Kansas To be buried at his start He was buried near his father And his mom, god bless her heart He gave his land to Sanche and gave some to Felize too They kept it up for him so long It was the least that he could do He was the image of a cowboy A loner, sagebrush in his soul But in the end , it was family For that's what kept him whole.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018

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Date: 7/27/2018 2:21:00 PM
Roger, being from Texas I really enjoyed your cowboy saga. I wrote a cowboy poem several weeks ago but mime is not nearly as epic as yours. Nicely done my friend. John
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roger turner
Date: 8/5/2018 4:56:00 PM
Hi John, sorry it took so long to reply. Thanks for reading my work and I am humbled by your comments. I have been working on "Millie's Christmas Wish", which is now in the hands of my illustrator in England. We will be independently publishing it later this year, hopefully.