Cowboy Marriage Poems | Cowboy Poems About Marriage
These Cowboy Marriage poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Marriage. These are the best examples of Cowboy Marriage poems written by international PoetrySoup poets
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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
Cowboys and angles fell in love
one day the angle loves the cowboy
I am a angle my boyfriend is the cowboy
forever and ever we were in love before
we got together 7 months ago
we both have had
a bad relationship before
we get togther it have been
8 months now we might fight now
and than but it is making
things work out when we fight
I fell like cring but I say that
I'm soory and make up
Copyright © william martin | Year Posted 2013
The Saga of dusty roads of Utah
(To the memory of Don W. Esplin, father of Kathryn Esplin-Oleski)
There he was playing with some mild explosives,
in his own backyard, a resolute boy he is;
the June month had swelled like the taut belly of
a neighborhood lady; the boy wanted to be
a scientist which he became. He, of course could not
envision that all these sepia dust of Utah,
the noon backyard and a young scientist’s narrative
would be remembered by his explosive daughter
and a strange Indian was going to pen a saga.
Alfred Nobel was smiling from a page of a book
The boy rolled a cigarette, the smoke’s curlicues
swirl up to grain the picture. A blast almost choked
the bright blue jays and robins. Defused sun slanted.
The end of the road was just an end of the road
where sun could meet earth, warm grass shook off the heat
and the covert window of the farm house would yield
a father and son talk. Strong argument on
future, on an university, on money
on a world that could differ in generations;
of course the boy, as a father, understood
his girl, then living apart. But distance is in heart.
He would grow up midst dreams. A quirky wind would blow him
here and there; navy, marriage and science,
pharmacology and marriage again; a gust
of wind would take him on a ride that, if he could
read this he would have said, resembled his truck rides
down the roads of Utah. But at that point of time
he was wide awake inside his misty night’s sleep
and an American novel is shooting up
its multiple heads in search of fresh oxygen.
The waves of moon were enjoying a full tide.
=© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar
Copyright © Kushal Poddar | Year Posted 2009
I do not know?
To love you more each day
To hold you in better or worse
Be afraid and to be brave
In the deepest of life
To make you embarrassed
And laugh like crazy.
To serve you
And treat you like a king
To stand by you in ever battle we face
Support you in every choice
Even if I don't agree.
To sing and dance
Cook and clean
Just for you my love
I ain't perfect an neither are you
We've been scared
So take my hand let's finally start,
Start our journey
Just me and you
Forever may do
As long as I'm with you.
To join as your wife
Shed tears of love and joy
Even with pain and hate with you,
You'll never be alone from this day,
For we are one and ever again be two
And everyday I'll just fall more in love with you.
Copyright © Amanda Savage | Year Posted 2016
It's too early to prite woetry,
It's only three a.m.
I haven't had my coffee yet,
I can't sit in the den.
I'm sitting on the toilet,
Where the light is awful dim.
I can't wake my husband ,
He's feeding the cows at five again.
I'm sitting priting woetry,
I'll be pretty near blind by then.
Copyright © mary lawrence | Year Posted 2017