Cowboy Holiday Poems | Cowboy Poems About Holiday

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

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Details | Light Poetry |

Its Christmas Time in Dodge City

(To the tune of Silver Bells) Wooden sidewalks, and the shop fronts, Dressed in wild western style In the jail there’s a feeling of Christmas Cattle mooing, cowboys shooting Riding mile after mile And down at the Long Branch you hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Mobs in street fights try to stay polite While they bleed red and scream As the towns folk rush home To take cover Hear the jaws crunch See the kids bunch It’s Matt Dillon’s big scene As he catches the rustlers you’ll hear Silver spurs, silver spurs It’s Christmas time in Dodge City Jing-a-ling, saloon girls sing Soon it will be Christmas day. Silver spurs, silver spurs Soon it will be Christmas day. Soon it will be Christmas day.
When we travel in the car we sing to the radio. The other night, Silver Bells came on and I sang Dodge City to make my wife laugh.

Copyright © Tony Lane | Year Posted 2011


Details | Free verse |

TOMBSTONE

Whistle does the lone desert winds, flowing downwards from
Boot hill cemetery, in icy chilling breeze full of echoing voices,
From the past, begging for redemptions last chance of salvation.
Roll does the crimson tumbleweed, towards the ghost town known as
Tombstone, a monuments graveyard to the old west.
In this rock cactus garden of venomous vipers, did the righteous
Live, amongst the uncivilized lawless, in this wildness country,
Of the unbridled frontier.
Blinded by greed's lightning flash, for quick money and easy cash,
Did the earth expose evil's shining metal, silver, from deep within,
Accursed is this place, purgatory's hell on earth, its deadly soil marred
And sanctified in blood sacrifice.
Left to the scorpions and rattlesnakes, as the only living inhabitants,
Ramshackle buildings remain, abandonment’s delinquent tribute
To a once thriving community.
But after night fall, others come forth, crossing the threshold of the
Nether underworld, the gun slinger, the gambler, and ladies of
Reputation's ill repute, claim this desert real estate for their own
Dark amusement park, still whooping it up at the bird cage theatre,
Indulging themselves. In all manor of seductions insidious erotic acts
Of depravity.
The condemned soulless walk these dusty sandy streets of limbo,
Forever banished are these bastered son's of the gun. Or until the last
Shot is fired at the O.K. Corral, on high noon's final sunrise.
Satan is the lawful sheriff here, in this the territory of the forsaken,
And his loyal deputy the Grim Reaper controls the posses of the undead.
Riding against the redden moon, seeking any innocent soul trying
To escape from this desert prison.
You've drawn the dead man's hand my friend, if you find yourself lost here,
For the condemned show no mercy's reprieve to outsiders, the screaming
Souls shout from above, run lone cowboy run, and don't look back,
For the devils possess rides behind thee, and the dark lord,
Takes no prisoner's alive.
Whistle do the lone desert winds, flowing downwards from
Boot hill cemetery, in icy chilling breeze full of echoing voices,
From the past, begging for redemptions last chance of salvation.
But light concurs darkness, and death's icy grip fades at the 
First rays of sunrise, and all evil must return to their crypts
Beneath the earth, from the dust from when'est they came, 
Until the next moon's rising, then wide will the gates of hell,
Swing again, releasing the germinate residences of a city,
Named Tomb Stone.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Copyright © cherl dunn | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |

A Doc Holiday Classic

The loudmouth cowboy was challenged by an inebriated Doc Holiday.
"Draw your weapon sir," slurred the doc, "I'm your huckleberry."
"You're drunk as a skunk," said the cowboy, "probably seeing double too."
Mr Holiday responded, "Yes sir, that is very true,
but I have two guns,.. one for each of you."

Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster | Year Posted 2014


Details | Rhyme |

My Greatest Gift

When I received the greatest gift,
Was Christmas when I was ten;
That present gives my soul a lift,
When I think of it now and then;

I didn’t see a box with my name,
When I searched under the tree;
 I thought my parents were playing a game,
And had hidden it from me;

I waited oh so patiently,
For my gift on Christmas Day;
And when mom put a blindfold on me,
I didn’t know quite what to say;

She marched me out the front door,
And held my hand so tight;
Just when I thought I could take no more,
I saw that glorious sight;

My dad was holding the reins,
To a horse with a big red bow;
He had ribbons tied in his mane, 
With a coat that seemed to glow;

I burst out into happy tears,
As I reached out to touch his face;
It’s a moment I’ve remembered for many years,
No other could take it’s place;

My greatest gift was “Lucky”,
My horse so tried and true;
And I hope you’ll be as lucky,
To have a gift like that for you!

Copyright © Tirzah Conway | Year Posted 2011

Details | Cowboy |

Cowboy Kindness

Cowboy Kindness


Cowboys are known 'bout their kindness to strangers,
even against outlaws and rustlers.
To a cowboy it matters not the dangers, 
and on this night, 
it was none the differ.

I was ridin' grave yard,
one night long ago.
A winter storm was blowin'
snow fallin' and the wind cold.

When I came apon a feller stuck in the snow,
his team tangled and all astray.
So I pulled up to help, wouldn't ya know,
So this man could be on his way.

He was tall and broad with eyes,
that looked so kind.
even though there was much work for me,
I didn't mind.

So we got his rig fixed and team hitched,
he gave me a small gift,
wrapped in paper of gold.

I handed it back to him,
sayin' "There's no cause,
it belongs to some boy or girl,
so be on yer way Mr Clause."

"For the sun will soon be up,
and you have to leave bacause,
there is bound to be milk and cookies,
so go for there is only time for a short pause."

When my shift was done,
I went to get some some chuck.
A simple Christmass breakfast,
wouldn't ya know the luck.

Ol' cook with his laddle pointed,
to the corner with the tree.
Under it was a brand new saddle..
From Santa, To. Me

Copyright © Kevin Harmon | Year Posted 2010

Details | Cowboy |

The Cowboy Rides For Christmas, Part I

Dixon Bullinger braced himself against
another frozen blast of winter wind,
riding through the front range to Denver
where his family was a-waiting.

It was morning on Christmas Eve,
and he was a long time overdue,
but Boss McChord had paid him double
to rescue horses from being consumed.

They’d taken out a problem bear
and had a drink to celebrate,
he’d exchanged good wishes with the boys,
then had set about upon his way.

He rounded a corner in a craggy gorge,
and there he saw a stunning sight:
Santa Claus sat on an empty sleigh,
brooding sadly amidst the white.

Dix rode up, and doffed his hat,
saying,”Father Christmas! What are the odds!
May I ask why you are sitting here though,
‘tis the skies that you usually trod?”

Santa then sadly shook his head,
said,”My boy, you don’t understand.
I stopped for a rest and was robbed blind
by a gang of five masked men!

“They took my sack and with it
all the gifts for the boys and girl.
if I cannot somehow get it back,
there’ll be no presents for the world.”

Dix frowned deeply at the thought,
a coldness creeping into him.
Christmas may have been more than gifts,
but try telling that to the kids!

He said,”If you’ll ride with a fool cowpoke,
I’ll gladly help you find the fiends.
A Christmas with no gifts to give…
that’s not something this world needs.

“I have some skill at tracking, see,
from months chasing stray cows.
If you point me the way they went,
we’ll lick these bandits, and how!”

Santa nodded and pointed off
to a narrow slot canyon,
“That’s the way they all took off,
when the foul deed was done.

“If you start along tracking them,
I will follow as soon as I can.
My reindeer are bushed from today’s work,
Donner is nearly all done in.

“But once they’ve had a breather,
I’ll fly them up into the air.
If you leave a trail for me to follow,
I’ll catch up and meet you there!”

Dixon nodded and removed
his brand new, red, silk scarf.
He cut off a piece and then said,
“This here is bright as any spark.”

With that he took to the trail,
riding down that rocky cleft,
to save Christmas for the little ones
he’d undue this savage theft…

Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017

Details | Cowboy |

The Cowboy Rides For Christmas, Part III

Santa flew off to make his rounds,
and Dix made quick tracks for home,
to a one-room shack outside of town,
that his ma and sister called their own.

It wasn’t much too look at,
and his pay barely made ends meet.
He shuddered to think that without it
they’d both be out on the streets.

They exchanged countless hugs,
Ii really had been a long while.
His sister sang all she knew
of songs in a Christmas style.

It was a crowded Christmas Eve,
even tighter than the bunkhouse.
But he was home for the holiday,
and could deal with the resident mouse.

On Christmas morn, while ma cooked,
a knock rapped loudly on the door.
Ma asked,”Who could that be?”
then opened up to Boss McChord.

Dix was stunned, and jumped up,
scrambling ‘round, trying to dress.
Boss said,”Now hold on, take your time,
they’re ain’t no reason to fret!

“See I came on down to tell you
something that you need to hear.
Then this strange old man gave me this sack,
And said,’Bring Dix some Christmas cheer.’”

With that he lowered a red sack,
and spilled in out on the floor.
Gifts and gold and food spilled out,
at least fifty pounds or more!

“And the think I wanted to ask you Dix,
if you’ll forgive my holiday entrance,
is if you want to be my partner,
I’m expanding the McChord Ranch.

“I bought three thousand acres more,
And I’ll give you a ten percent share.
For all the work you’ve done to save the herds,
I think that it’s only fair.”

Dix was stunned, and could only nod,
McChord clasped him quietly warmly.
“You’ll have plenty of space to build a house,
big enough for the whole family.”

Ma she cried and thanked him,
and invited him to stay for lunch.
They sang and ate and opened presents,
which came in a mighty bunch.

In the sack, amongst the gifts
Dix found for himself a new red scarf.
Then below it something that
struck still his beating heart.

It was a brand, new Winchester,
well machined, oiled, and slick.
Hanging from it was a simple tag
that bore the name ‘Ol’ Nick.’

He saw writting inscribed on the stock,
and the words it said were this:
‘To My Good Friend Dix, now forever more
'The Cowboy Who Rode for Christmas.’'

Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017

Details | Cowboy |

The Cowboy Rides For Christmas, Part II

For half an hour Dix had rode true
when the canyon opened up wider.
In front of him five stubbly men
sat around a roaring fire.

The leader Dixon recognized,
as his sifted through Santa’s sack.
He was an outlaw known far and wide
by the name of Randsome Mack.

Their eyes fastened upon him
when he and his horse rode into sight,
every one of the men had guns,
they all looked ready for a fight.

Dixon looked up to the skies,
but he could not see a sleigh.
He had left plenty of bits of scarf,
had Santa somehow lost his way?

He swallowed deep as Randsome rose,
and glared deep with hateful eyes.
“It seems we got us a trespasser.
Boys, let’s put him down the mine—”

But Dix spurred forward as he spoke,
catching the bandits all off-guard.
Before they could could drew, he scattered them
and seized the sack with a strong arm.

“Get him!”angry Randsome cried,
as Dixon turned and dashed through.
“I want that sack, I want it all!
Run down that blasted fool!”

The race was on through canyon walls,
half covered in ice and snow.
Dix was ahead by a good span,
but could he get clear? He didn’t know.

On he pounded, but his foes gained,
not weighed down by Santa’s sack.
If this kept up Dix knew that he
would never made it back.

But a ringing of bells sounded above,
and a shadow raced on past.
Santa’s sleigh soared above the gorge,
his flight blew and icy blast!

It slowed the bandits in pursuit,
they ducked to cover their heads.
Then Old Saint nick skimmed with snow,
with the runners of his great sled.

A wall of white tumbled on down,
landing on the bandit’s far below.
They shouted and sputtered, motionless,
socked in by a mountain of snow!

By the time the dug themselves out,
Dixon and his horse were too far gone,
out or sight and far beyond
the reach of Randsome’s throng.

When Dix cleared the rocky canyons
and rode out into the cold parklands,
he found Santa and his reindeer team
pulled up by an aspen stand.

When he approached, Santa laughed,
and slung an arm around his back.
“My boy I knew you would pull through.
We got Christmas back on track!”

Copyright © David Welch | Year Posted 2017