T'was a warm summer's day, when I took to the trail,
to cruise that old black spruce, way down in the swale.
A gallon of bug dope was strapped on my hip,
which I figured would last me for most of the trip.
Down through the sphagnum I plowed like a moose,
a huffin' and puffin' and spittin' my snoose.
Then off in the distance, I heard a faint roar,
like B-29's coming home from the war.
The sky clouded over, so you barely could see,
"They're mosquitoes! "I cried, and they're coming for me.
They flew by me once and past me again,
a-flexing their stingers, before they moved in.
I grabbed for my bug dope and spread it on thick,
just hopin' and prayin', it would do the trick.
They came at me fiercely and punctured my hide,
But before they could drink much, they dropped off and died.
I thought to myself, "What type of bug dope is this?"
The mosquitoes all had smiles on, as they lay there in bliss.
After checking the label, I saw my mistake,
t'was the 100 proof whiskey, that Uncle Jake makes.
Copyright © Richard Manly | Year Posted 2006
Enter a storybook tale
Where I can be
The heroine you hail
Lucid dreams of soft reflection
A touch heated with lust and desired protection
A breathe a gasp as we succeed
Join the fairytale with me
Valiant night within dark eyes
the right movement and I make them shine
like moonlight on the steamy hot spring
care to follow for a little dip with me
Trailing like the water at my fingertips
Grasp me around my hips
As close as the breeze on my skin
Whisper lies as I let you in
Lips mumbling up my thighs
bare heart exposed to the sky
fire burning in my veins
Am I a mistress of this lust or simply a slave
Trembling with desire
Take me till we've lost count of the hours
enter this storybook tale
Where I can be the heroine you hail
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2012
Rise at first light.
This cowgirl enters up to ride this day.
She dawns her hat, for this is not any day.
Ready to pay her dues.
The sun will beat down,
hot and hard is how she'll ride.
Into the shoot we go.
The blood pumping, muscles quivering.
Ready to go!
The gate slams open.
Off we go!
My mustang and me,
to round that first barrel.
Away we go!
Rounding our second barrel.
Thundering down to that third barrel.
We round that barrel,
the dust will follow.
With a war cry,
We head down the long path home.
Followed by cheers and jeers,
she crosses the line!
Cowgirl is up and paid her dues.
Copyright © Gypsyof Essence | Year Posted 2013
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
I’ve ridden many a trail in my life & regrets I have few
For I lived the life I chose & to the Cowboy way stayed true
I will not ask for a mansion when I stand before God’s throne
I’ll be happy with a bedroll, a good herd & a sturdy roan
A cowboy’s dream is what I lived for so many happy years
I had my spread & family, made a good living from the calves & steers
So do not cry when you think of me, for I would rather see you smile
Rest easy in the knowing that because of you, my life was not a trial
Do not stand around & speak in hushed & hallowed tones
For there is nothing in this casket, except for husk & bones
My Spirit saddled up & hit the trail, heeding the Master’s call
And though I ride for him now, I’ll miss you one & all
In the creak of saddle leather & the jinglebobs you hear
I hope you think of me & know that I am ever near
I ride a range that knows no end, no stampede or rain
And I’ll keep one saddled for you until we meet again
Copyright © Catherine Devine | Year Posted 2005
I love my Mousey,
She lives in a field in BrushCreek, Tennessee,
Walking with her her of cattle,
As happy as she will ever be.
Without this there would be only she,
And i could make her as happy as me,
I miss her immensly, for thee i wish well,
For everyday i wish she wont sell,
And I could show her in the Dekalb County Fair,
I would sell never an ounce of her.
Hehe not even one of her little white hairs.
Even when all the way over there,
Mine she is for no one but me to share, if I do so happen to dare.
Cute as a button,
A button her nose may well be,
Where I first touched her sweet little body,
Not once but twice sweetly,
For wherever she goes I could spot her, along with her sister and mother.
Many a mile away, for she is not at all,
Not at all what you would say a little grayish thing.
But a heifer who grows daily,
Only to shove the motherly tears away.
In my eyes though, she will always be, forever and always, my baby girl, my sweetie,
my beautiful girl, my Mousey
Copyright © Jessie Howell | Year Posted 2010
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.
Copyright © Tye Chisholm | Year Posted 2005
Country girls are a special breed
Their love is straight from the honeycomb
The simple life is all they need
For love is the heart of their home
Sacrifice resides in their DNA
Their work is never done
Tender hearted is the country way
But so is shooting a gun!
Her horse her boots
And those painted on jeans
Are staples in a country girls life
Like her garden growing lusciously green
A day in the dirt smudged on her nose
Simple beauty from her head to her toes
Cut off shorts and white cotton top
Brings a country boys world to a stop
Fields of daisies brighten her day
Content with her neighbor miles away
Her Hilton is a musty barn full of hay
In the arms of her man where she lays
That taste of sweet tea
Cowboy hats and Dusters
Make her man look heavenly
The spurs the blood
Eight seconds of glory
All the dust and mud
In love with a rodeo story
A country girl dances alone
Yet together all in a line
Sisters shaking hips making a scene
Till her man arrives and twirls her
Where dancing with class reigns supreme
Sunday drive on a pretty back road
In a jacked up truck snuggled close
Country music and a six pack of beer
Simple pleasures the country life knows
Yes indeed we're a special breed
The country life ain't for all
But it's the only life for me it seems
Hope life is as sweet for ya'll <3
Copyright © Sarai Romani | Year Posted 2014
He is a man to himself Trust is not of his nature He is a lone cowboy Corralling his love It would be easier putting a stallion out to pasture He is a gentle man, simple is his way His cowboy hat, boots and trusty steed Is all he needs to make his day He's a man to himself, trust is not of his nature He's a lone cowboy and you can't change that I gave him some rope and let him go free To my amazement he came riding back to me Slowly now, I will accept and let him be I love the feeling he gives me, I too feel free
Copyright © Catherine Trout | Year Posted 2014