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Cowboy Beauty Poems | Cowboy Poems About Beauty

These Cowboy Beauty poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Beauty. These are the best examples of Cowboy Beauty poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse |

Feline Alert

*The feline Texan way*

A clean coat of paint - on my nails
Red shade of lips - on my smile
Solid oak charms - on my wrist
Country music - around my core
Flattering eyes - a rustic shell.
Join me in a "Country Girls Tale"


Every day I draw near the morning dawn, 
Abide by the landscape towards the new Texas sun
A track of yellow roses and cactus galore
I brand my name everywhere I travel
Allowing you near the bounds of my Wild West soul
I maintain it above the snake level everywhere I roll

Got my head up like a cowgirl, 
Men around my black leather chaps
I tilt my bull hide hat leaving behind a sweet Texas Trail
Driving down a midnight Texan storm
It takes more than raindrops to knock me from my-  “2-Steppin’ world.”
A windy ride, bruises under the hide taking it in like- “A Real Cowgirl!”
I got a tight hold on my saddle, holding on to a brighter morrow

Enjoying the voices and the sound
Tex-Mex lingo, round and round
Ropers and Wranglers are how I dress
I'm all covered, except for the top of my chest.

Living’ it up^, down here in the south.
Erin’ the lungs, shooting up the sport
Long necks’ and kissing under a rodeo’ moon. 
Honky-Tonk, tattooing the mockingbird.

Down here:
You will see me sitting on the Country ground,
Peacefully staring into the optics of the "Alamo Stars."
Falling with the art found in the flag I hold.
I am The Wild! 
I am The West!
“— A little dotty, but civilized!” 

Enjoying the morning breeze,
Where the dew sits on the tip of Mother Nature’s tongue.
There and only there you will find me,
Under the brightest Texas Star

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Western Skies Of Spring

We have waited long and now momentarily pause
to lose ourselves in the Western skies of spring;
our mellow looks follow them until dusky evening...
ask the awe-captured painter how they seduce! 

Even the big mountains in the background seem blue,
below them discover lovely bluebells that surely ensue
beauty by waving in prairies dotted with yellow daisies;
spend an afternoon in contemplating the red canyons!

And resting beneath the motionless clouds, be dazzled
by radiance: deep moments of awareness can stupefy;
go back in time by imagining the same California sky  
that the old explorers saw heading West to seek gold.

Walk farther towards the blue lake, wide and clear,
it steals indigo from the above sky to look pretty;
the cactus in full bloom proclaim the desert's glory
once seen by young, wild cowboys who chased deer.  

Written on 3/36/2016

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016

Details | Rhyme |

This is me

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

Copyright © brittney lopez | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cowboy |


God took six days to create this earth. After some rest, He plotted a cowgirl's birth. "Folks have got off track since time begin." "My Cowgirl will be perfect," He thought with a grin. "Problems are Global since it started in motion." I’ll fix this mess with My Cowgirl notion." As He pondered His stars an' His moonlit skies. He captured that beauty to put in her eyes. "My Sun's warmth will be bred into her heart." "No stature of creature will be bred as smart." He looked upon the Rockies an' the beauty there in. He thought, "That's the beauty I'll put in her grin." He thought of His fire an' how hot it does burn. "That's the intensity of My Cowgirl's concern." "My oceans are strong an' mighty like Me." "Just how I want My Cowgirl to be." He thought how His trees do flex in His wind. "My Cowgirl will flex, like these she will bend." "My prairies have stretched both vast an' wide". "That's the same Love she'll carry inside." "The measure an' vastness of the depths of My oceans." "The same measure is set for My Cowgirl's emotions." He pondered the gentleness of His spring day rain. "That's the gentle ease I want in her brain." "My birds toil tirelessly for endless hours." "Man can't count the bounty of My flowers." "My Cowgirl will match the energy of My birds." "Like My flowers her beauty can't be captured with words." He reflects back on life an' how it begins. The future of it all an' how it all ends. That's the way it is an' the way it should be. "She's dog-gone near perfect, for My whole world to see." By Jim "Ish' Fellers Copyright ©: March 24, 2004 ~ Wednesday

Copyright © JW Fellers | Year Posted 2009

Details | Rhyme |

Cowboys in the Badlands

Cowboys in the Badlands 

Out West, across the great divide
great open spaces oceans wide.
Beauty in these badlands does hide
everything fights us as we ride.

Last stop, was exciting wild Abilene
shot an hombre that was very mean.
Watched him bleed as he slowly died
his gal held him and loudly she cried.

Before, she had sworn love to me
next his dying love she swore to be.
Riding away fast, ahead of the Law
looking back, cloud of dust we saw.

My partner lit out on me last night
cried this was surely not his fight.
He turned back east galloping so fast
we had our time, had a damn blast. 

Ahead the badlands beckon me on
this cowboy life sets me all alone.
Hot as hell the water miles ahead
A night's rest to clear my head.

Morning sun woke me to great heat
no bread, bacon and eggs to eat.
Precious water is in very short supply
always fleeing, I ponder just why.

No time to enjoy such pretty views
my path ahead, my life I must choose.
Avoiding Indians and the chasing men
forever alone with never a friend.

This beauty now I can slow to see
posse has surely given up on me.
Coyotes call , rattlesnakes do hiss
comfort of town I do sorely miss.

Found now, a dusty trail to old Mexico 
across the Rio Grande I now go.
Far behind, hell's horses race after me
dancing with pretty senoritas I'll soon be!


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Cowboy |


my lottery
gentlemen need loaves bread
others wishes to be civilized
i myself wishe ur deployed
                                                           the road you go 
                                                               the chair you sit and the river you swim
                                                                                                     disturb me and blame 
the garment you wear
oinment you colour
the blinks the pigments they are
the love genarated the fire
i cannot resist shall i swear 
                                                                 at the begining of the the year people flock to Dv
                                                             in other ways i go to DSTV
                                                     infact of america is not as such concern for me and i am not sensitive 
                                                                  you are victorious i am your  fugitive
                                                                 defeating you is as  far as PLUTO and complicative
madness i am 
craziness i become
cool you are how to play your game 
day and dawn i dream
 i miss you at the morning  getting harm 
                                                                                               you do not understand this 
                                                                                       how i become embarassed and my crisis
                                                                                          my pulse doubles 
                                                                                             my words whispers 
                                                                                           my breathing changes
                                                                                                 my sickness relapses
people  encouraged with      money
sealers satisfies with their business 
mine is not that my earnest is you 
my happieness and my value
you are the solely you are my lottery 
do not far from me i will get crazy
fee will knock to us if we become so happy
do not hesitate my lovely 
we will be wealthy 
come on my beautiful you are my lottery(2)

Copyright © YESHAMBEL BIRLIE | Year Posted 2014

Details | Lyric |

Please Help Me, Re-lyric

Please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You.
You're just so damn sexy,
That's why I'm hittin' on you.
You don't have to love me,
Some good sex will do.
Please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You.

Yes, you turned me on
When I saw you walk in...
The face of an Angel,
A body just made for Sin.
Now, I may be real horny,
But one thing is true:
What would satisfy me, Girl
Would be to satisfy You.

So please help me, I've fallen
In Lust with You; 
And I hope that you're fallin'
In Lust with me too;
But if not, then please fake it,
Please don't leave me "blue"...
Please help me, I've fallen
In  Lust  with  You.

Copyright © Robert Candler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Couplet |


Who am I?
Am I defined by what is near in sight?
Am I defined by what I have done,
Or am I defined by what I could become?

Perhaps I'm of no use.
To him, or her, or I, nor you.
Or perhaps I'm too misunderstood to be defined,
And it is something like understanding that comes in time.

And if to the world I'm never shown,
Yet in my own light I've grown and grown,
And so I can know no happiness but my own--
The reason for my smile, to you, will forever be unknown.

I do not pray for the world to know my name.
For it and verse; the letters are the same.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads,
I pray his pain my words to keep. 

Should his eyes rain on my page,
Better tears than storms of rage.
And if a man should find his sorrow in what he reads.
I pray his pain my words to keep.

And if to the world you're never shown,
Yet in your own light you've grown and grown,
And so you know no happiness but your own.
Let the reason for your smile, to you, only be known.

Copyright © Kristopher Higgs | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |

Longing for the ride

Majestic he stands 
Head held high and proud
Until I draw near tack in hand
His mussel to my chest he bows

Our eyes fixed
With deepest affection
Respect from me
From him acceptance 

His nostrils flair 
He inhales my scent
A bond beyond fences
A mutual consent

About horse and rider 
How can I explain
This communion of splendor 
Perpetually sustained

With reverent candor
Can any man compare
Who would be considered grander
Horse or rider if you dare

Nobility without pride
Beauty without vanity
Majesty without disciple
Power without violence 

Do you still wonder why I'm longing for the ride
When he challenges the wind for speed
Brushed by heaven with every stride
Intimacy mounted here on "Spirit's Pride"

My steed and I in harmony
Exhilaration captivates my senses
Pounding hooves, his earthen scent 
Taut muscles ripple in sweat profusely drenched

He heeds the slightest touch of rein
His saddle is my alter of prayer
When he on oceans sands a trot
My soul is healed all disrepair

In bed I lay awake tonight my mind a heavy load
His blaze is blazoned in my memory burned
Of black night mane and chestnut coat
A quatrain tribute to his name he's earned

Still you may not understand
This yearning so many take in stride
Of horse and rider pure joy provider
And oh such longing for the ride

Copyright © Sarai Virden | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Cowboys In The Badlands

 The two Cowboys stood at the cliff of a great divide.
Jacob stood, starring across the opening with Bill still
in his saddle, close by his side. The rocky scene was like
A kaleidoscope, every color, ever known.
Is there any other place you would rather be Bill?
Bill said, No Jacob, I don't believe so.
Jacob slowly, climbed back on to his horse and pulled the 
reins and headed North. He started whistling a happy note
and Bill listened as he followed Jacob to the valley

 Deadwood City here we come, looking for gold and lots of fun,
Jacob shouted! Yep, Bill shouted back, and we need to keep us
a fully loaded gun. The Cowboys laughed out loud as they rode on.
The Cowboys knew Deadwood could make a man so very rich
and they had contracted the gold fever itch. The day's travel was
so very long and hot, and the sun began to sink below the mountain's 
amber, rugged tops.

 They found a place to camp before nightfall and how that fire crackled
as they ate beans and corn fritters, and over coffee talked.
You know Bill, said Jacob. One Summer could set us straight and you 
could pay off the old farm and fix that crooked gate.
Yeah, Bill responded and then you could marry Jenny. Maybe start
a family and maybe even buy the Ole Mill. Yeah, said Jacob, so surreal.  
The Cowboys lay starring at the stars in the sky that clear, crisp night
and dreamed of all the things that gold could buy them, until daylight.

 The Cowboys made Deadwood and Oh, the sights they seen.
They panned every river and every stream. Then at summer's end
they cashed it all in and headed back to Tennessee, to live out their lives
and share with their family the story of their Deadwood dreams.

Copyright © Sharon Gulley | Year Posted 2014

Details | Ballade |

An Ellice Island - In search of KindRed Soul

Long miles of tedious journey,
Missing my darling honey.
Travelling impatiently, spend thousands of 
Hope god will bless me with ma lucky soul 
at this season.

Equatorial island exploring its amazed 
beauty, glittering with immersed grasses.
Wrapped by queens necklaced small lake 
aside, at the outskirts of dalhousie.
My heart dwelled into its god gifted 
When the night lime lighted,
Millions of stars scattered around 
charming moon.
As if its was a wondering boon.
Lucky enough for landing with my next 

Eagerly waiting for my heart chaser,
Girl passed near by, few seconds later.
Flaming beauty mould my soul.
Topped with innocence, ready for my 
auspicious goal.
Her chic appearance,
Her innocent appeal.
Strucking heart raised with high beats..
Awaited for our romantic date in ma 
upcoming meet.

Frequency of our nature matched.
Stolen Eyes of each other were catched.
Strings of our heart whistled 
Everything had happened miraclelously.
I rebelled the three precious words of 
romantic dictionary.
Accepting my red rose, She blushed.

At event of recreation, campfire were 
Nobody around us, private moments 
between we two spotlighted.
Playing guitar, she sinked with every beat,
That's the coincidence our eyes again 
Hand in hand danced with the soothing 
romantic theme,
Sparkling smile on her face beamed.
Getting closer to her, because of her 
fragranced cream.
Expecting the light around us to be dim.

The romantic moment again came,
Flaps of my soul opened for the grand 
She looked too pretty in her gold lame 
My heart awarded her an order of chivalry.
Don't know who are you, but baby you are 
the one, I am in love.
You live in me, You are my love
I feel you in my heart,
You are my world, I just cant stay apart!

Please don't hesitate, please don't lie,
Whatever you feel, my heart can buy!
Angel of life, Its just you.
Completeness in life can't be without you.

Wanna Carry journey happily together.
Tickling nose, Queenly beauty of my white 
Hold my senses, its caught by you.
Don't let be just memories, wanna feel 
ecstasy of love towards you forever.
Promising to hold your hand throughout 
life in this lovely weather.

Will be your shadow, because your pain 
will be mine.
Its destiny that our heart clicked a 
snapshot of each other's soul.
Stopping by my question, Will you marry 
me, my Kindred Soul?

Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013

Details | Elegy |

America the Beautiful

America the Beautiful 
The heartland of America of peace and old farmhouses,
the country I read about as a young man it is still there
although news we are served is of riots and mass shooting.
Sturdy farmers in blue overall at the bottom of the road
 have collections of old stuff from recent past things
collected for the love of it, but you can buy some if they
feel like selling, canny know the value of scrap metal
Nice roads in a green landscape and tall three, and no 
police sirens scream around winding corners and bullets
do not fly through the air hitting a child. 

This is America the beautiful, I will go there someday,
perhaps buy a rusty old Dodge that has been standing under
a tree for twenty five years-who cares- and talk to the old 
farmer about this and the sorry life of city dwellers.        

Copyright © jan oskar hansen | Year Posted 2014

Details | Tanka |

What A Beauty

<                                    beneath swollen ..... moon
                                      in pasture of...... rolling hills
                                      standing  ....hind quarters
                                      a beautiful black ...... stallion
                                      simply took my breath ........ away

Entry For
Rick Parise's 
A Memory Of Beauty
Tanka Contest
G.L. All

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Free verse |


The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.

21 February 2013

Copyright © Smail Poems | Year Posted 2013

Details | Carpe Diem |


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.

Copyright © Sam Ruby | Year Posted 2013

Details | Cowboy |


With age is supposed to come wisdom, but occasionally age comes alone. so the question that lies amongst many men is what does it truly mean to be grown. Is it the cars you drive, or perhaps the bill your supposed to pay. Maybe its the overwhelming burden of certain responsibility. Or do we ever grow up? Age is just a testimony of how long we've been here not of how much we've learned. Wisdom is the declaration of what we do after we've crashed and burned. Do we get up, dust ourselves off and return to our feet. Or do stay down wallow in self pity and concede to defeat. You can never get enough wisdom, its just one of those qualities and traits that can never hurt to have, Like a person with a loving touch, a gentle stare and a way of making you laugh. Wisdom can lead you to much more then just knowledge. Its a gateway to Fame, riches, and essentially the answers to all your problems. Take note of all the wise men in our time, From Martin Luther King, who's Famous today all way back to Albert Einstein. Both wise in different ways, but even more Now then they were in there own Days. So in a sense our lives can truly never excel to height we want it to before dying. You see because out Wisdom reaching that high is like being a dope addict we'll do nothing but die trying.

Copyright © Clemon Beverly | Year Posted 2014

Details | Cowboy |


Down in Sonoma, down on my luck 
Needing a horse, down to my last buck 
Man said, 'This palo ain't easy to ride 
You can have him for the shotguns by your side'. 
'Throw in the saddle,' I said, 'You got a deal' 
I was raised round mustangs, I know how he feels 
The horse studied me, I understood him, 
We knew things could never be the same. 

   I rode him across the plains, I rode him through snows and rains 
   I rode him like a bullet train and he never never once complained. 
   I rode him through rough terrains, I rode him down ragged lanes 
   White tail, white flowing mane, you will never see his like again. 

The years rolled by for Pallo and me 
Worked when we had to but loved running free 
California gold rush in '49 
We were cold and starving and close to dying. 
There among the stones glory to behold 
Good Lord Almighty, I'd panned me some gold 
Sold my stake to some desperate men 
Then rode my Palomino like the wind.  

   I rode him across the plains, I rode him through snows and rains 
   I rode him like a bullet train and he never never once complained. 
   I rode him through rough terrains, I rode him down ragged lanes 
   White tail white flowing mane, you will never see his like again. 

Then came the deathly whistling sound 
A sniper's bullet dropped us to the ground
Laid there with his head across my knee 
I swear that he was smiling back at me. 
All those good times running through his mind 
I knew he'd be willing, he knew I'd be kind 
Four more bullets and our lives were gone 
And born again under a different sun 

   I ride him across the plains, I ride him through snows and rains 
   I ride him like a bullet train and he never never once complains. 
   I ride him through rough terrains, I ride him down ragged lanes 
   Grey ghosts on some spectral plane, I ride my sacred horse again. 


Copyright © Louis Spence | Year Posted 2016

Details | ABC |



Copyright © PEGGY MAKOENA | Year Posted 2015

Details | Free verse |

Mop Handle Blues or Rowland Thunder

Young Jesi Naomi channeling Trish Roland 
incarnate professedly. Hour: you dead now?
Tuba bongo blues like a freight train serenade 
in the American night. You slammed life against 
the wall, slammed it. Drank it down 
with booze stained splinters and mop handle blues.
Guitar licks and microphone screams,
taste like swill and Lysol. If nausea 
Permeates your pours, belt it out
From the reaches of your bosom. You
Never played the possum.

I can’t wait for summer or autumn.

Winter though

Copyright © Stephen Barry | Year Posted 2015

Details | Prose Poetry |

Driving Out West

        Where the sky meets the earth and the highway goes on and on, a white satin ribbon snaking across a sea of brown. You can see far into the distance with no trees to obscure your view. No billboards mar the landscape, no skyscrapers rise out of the ground. Rolling hills, tumble-weed, yucca, sagebrush and distant mountains range on forever. Herds of antelope roam freely, wearing coats of butterscotch and whipped cream.
        Artists leave their signatures, huge metal sculptures drawing the eye, many miles in advance. Anticipation grips you as you wait to identify buffalo, roadrunner, jackrabbit, Brahma bull or horse and rider.
        Contemplate a life so different from your own, experience the serenity as you roll along with so little effort, feel the fulfillment, the contentment, the embracing freedom. 

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Blank verse |

Arabian Beauty

Her hair flows with the waves of the wind.
Her spirit wild and free. 
Her heart beats with the rhythm of her feet.
Her eyes reflect the purity with in her soul.
Her loyalty unquestionable.
Her beauty out shines the sun.
She is the most vibrant mare I have ever seen.

Copyright © christie mills | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cowboy |



Desert sun, caress this mountain flat.
Rise and warm, push darkness back.
Engage the Earth, embrace it
for your own names sake,
Awaken the shapes and colors
That daybreak creates.

Establish the season
Wind up clock, cut through the mist 
and shine on my stock,
From molten ash, to ignited sea
sending un-reined light, running wild and free
stampeding flame, unshod and untamed
spirited illusions from fusion burning so far away

Dappled, green, or splashed fiery red,
Mains of blue flame and hooves of hot led,
Escaping confinement, seeping through, heating the blinds
Encroaching and passing yet evoking nowhere to hide.
But to rid all the world of coldness and dark.
As the fires of spring gleam,
Through open eyes of the heart.

Give us this day, if even the last,
Hold the sorrows of tomorrow
and roll yesterday back
So that when it appears I'll be wed to the sight,
The softest beams of gold and white.
And made as one, in light of day 
amongst the lost to light the way.

You see,
All of the above and the shadow of death, 
are all wrapped into one.
The Sun, our greatest asset.
For that, I'll be waiting riding high on the plain,
Tipping my hat to the sky,

“It's good to see you again”

Copyright © Trey Pearson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Cowboy |

A Beautiful Flower

A Beautiful Flower



 Cascading through
 A timeless piece
 One can learn to understand it's fullest creation
 First a seed then the soil
 An ever increasing pull through the ground
 Sound the alarm
 Vanquished from the worms that eat
 With time a sprout then the light of illumination
 A pulse of radiance sought after colors of deep penetrating taste
 An explosion of excellence
 Red, yellow and white
 The sun beats upon the fullness of it's brevity
 Solace has replaced the film in front of the natural eye
 The vast nature's beckoning call asunder
 We awake to take in it's priceless beauty
 A challenge to be set free is a question of time

Copyright © Mario Vitale | Year Posted 2017

Details | Cowboy |

Church Going Folk

I'm a religous man, but I don't go to church
I tried a few times,
They said I wasn't welcome in the clothes I wore,
I smelled of horse, my boots tracked mud.
The Good Lord, apparently, likes His church folk clean

I Smiled as sweet as can be, 
And told those folks that was just fine with me.
I rode everyday in the Lords house, 
The wide open range. 
I was welcome there, 
Wether I had showered that day or not.
And everyday, I felt the Lord whisper in my ear, 
Through a soft breeze.
I heard Him answer my prayers,
I saw what they had never seen,
Witnessed the Lord start life, 
Bring it forth,
And usher it back out again. 
I saw the wisdom in living the Lord gives,
and I saw beauty beyond compare.
I rode beside those who judged not,
And judged them not myself.
I told them clean church folk,
I respect the Lords house, 
But I doubted it was He who refused me for want of good clothes,
I saw Him everyday, 
and everyday He welcomed me,
beneath warm sun and endless sky.
But I would ask Him, 
when my time came, 
if His house was as clean as all that.
Perhaps I'd put in a good word for those who'd refused me,
in their ignorance.
The Lords house is everywhere,
I may not be indoors when I pray, 
But that just cuts the confusion, 
With no ceiling to muffle my prayers.

I'm a religous man, 
But no church do I call mine, 
But the Lords wide open spaces,
The beauty he created,
No man made structure cases my prayers, 
and to no man do I bow,
But everyday the Good Lord finds me in awe of his creation,
An appreciation many folks fail to find indoors.

Copyright © samantha jepson | Year Posted 2007

Details | Cowboy |

A Brown Eyed Beauty

A Brown Eyed Beauty

The train slowed down and fin'ly stopped 
Here in our little town.
A brown eyed beauty smiled and winked
An' stepped down on the ground

She said I heard that Texas men
Can curl a young gal's toes
I come all the way from Kansas
To find me one of those

Well we was all flabbergasted
A lady talkin' such
There ain't no Romeos in town
In fact there just ain't much

The saucy gal said, "Where's your mayor?
Seems like the place to start."
So up the street we tagged along
To see our mayor, Bart

Now Bart had been around the block
Way back when he was young
Maybe he could tell this gal
The songs have all been sung

Well, in she went to have her say
An' then the sun went down
So we all drifted on back home
It's dark in our small town

Next mornin' we all gathered round
To watch her catch the train
But there she was on Bart's front porch
Singin' some old refrain

She said, "Howdy boys, lovely morn!
Ol' Bart's just sleepin' late.
If you'd bring up my clothes and things
I'd sure appreciate."

Well, we was stunned to say the least
As we brung up her clothes.
Who'd have thought it'd be ol' Bart
To curl them Kansas toes

Now that's been ten years more or less
Ol' Bart has kept his seat
An' when we talk about his wife
We don't mention her feet.

Copyright © Larry Bradfield | Year Posted 2016

Details | Cowboy |

I am selfish

I'm selfish 

I'm selfish on writing to become 
useless at your beauty 

I always leave my feelings of love 
which selfish to find you in my  heart 

I leave many things which making 
me a kind of useless selfish 
swimming in a sea of your love .

With love all 
Jagdish bajantri

Copyright © jagdish bajantri | Year Posted 2017