Long Cowgirls Poems
Long Cowgirls Poems. Below are the most popular long Cowgirls by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cowgirls poems by poem length and keyword.
I'm bewildered by what I see yonder,
Now hold yer horses, let's cease to wander.
We're fixin to meet yer coffee boiler.
He's the new one who's not a straight shooter. Whoah!
I reckon he's got an excuse for it.
And he will tell me why he didn't quit.
I'm stumped why he bamboozled you last night.
I thought I'd be cashed in for that big fight.
But I thought we should cowboy up!
You know I'm gonna call that wrangler's bluff.
We'll not run from trouble and skedaddle.
A strong man must sit firm on his saddle.
Grab a bandana, and fetch a canteen.
Nobody's guessed where this trail's gonna lead.
I once road down a lonely darkened road.
The burdens that I carried formed a load.
But I stood determined to cowboy up.
To set my trail straight and clean myself up!
That waddler will learn to ride for the brand.
By my wise warnin' and wisdom's command!
Those punchers all hat, surely no cattle,
Soon learn wild broncos make 'em chew gravel.
Cowgirls too!
These days, cowboys must learn to communicate!
And get the best result negotiatin'
Big change is ridin' hard across the range! Whoah!
They come to our door dressed as witches…as princesses…
as wizards, as ghosts and goblins too…
As pirates, as cowgirls, as ladybugs…
as warriors who know karate or kung-fu.
“Trick-or-treat!” They say…
as through the night their numbers increase.
They look into our bowl of candy and ask,
“Please, may I have a piece?”
We gladly hand a piece to every baby
every child…every teen…
and when they say, “Thank you!”
we all smile and say, “Happy Halloween!”
For one night the troubles we face in this world are forgotten…
because with every girl and boy…
under the costume…behind the masks
we see the innocent faces of peace and love and joy.
At the end of the evening we gaze into our bowl
that through the night by the children has been picked clean….
And I always wish handing out peace in the world
was as easy as handing out a piece of candy on Halloween.
I also make a second wish
once and all the monsters, ghosts and goblins have been fed:
I wish that while filling their bags with another piece of candy
we could assure them of a life filled with peace ahead.
We are old MacDonald’s great-grandchildren
who help him in his fields during weekends,
We gather chopped hays and feed his chicken,
then watch him works with his farmers and friends.
We love working in the fields together,
We ride ponies and horses…we’re cowgirls!
We greet his hardworking farmworkers who’re there
while they cut rice straws with their sharp sickles.
Our grandfather owns large hectares of land,
Ranging from the foot of the blue mountain
to the spot where we, three sisters stand;
Tour around freely! Ride in his land train!
Beyond grandpa’s rice fields are big orchards,
And behind are gardens with vegetables
where we’ll immensely enjoy afterwards;
Healthy foods will be on our long tables!
Our grandpa is so happy to have us,
He says, “ With triplets grandkids, life’s so nice!”
So, when we go back to school he gives cash,
buys new dress, pair of boots and hair bowties.
...Janet’s eyes went wide at the words,
Edna said,”It was so tragic.
Steve would come dance on Friday nights,
with the girls he worked his magic.
He met a woman that that dark night,
had no idea she was a wife.
Her husband came up, in a rage,
found them in her car, ‘at play.’
“He smashed the window with a gun,
they say he was seeing red,
aimed at Steve and opened fire,
putting three rounds into his head.
He fled the scene, up to Glendow,
the police found him hiding out.
The jury his life didn’t spare,
they gave that bastard the chair.
“The wife was shattered by the act,
some say that she moved up north,
can’t say for sure, but I know that,
she never came here no more.
A year later Steve reappeared,
and gave a girl a night of cheer,
just to flee before the 'fun,'
my dear, you’re not the only one.
“It seems every two months I speak
to another young thing like you,
most of them don’t believe it,
but I swear these words are true.
Steve just never had his fill,
and I fear that he never will.
Forever bound up by the wrong,
here his spirit lingers on.”
Janet retreated from the room,
bracing herself against the door,
desperately she scanned the bar,
looking out on the dance floor.
Steve still was absent from the crowd,
she didn’t know what to do now,
so she made for the entrance-way,
for in this place she could not stay.
But outside the fear faded fast,
and a breeze tussled her hair,
gently, like a lover’s hand,
as if somebody stood there.
A simple, quiet presence that
she knew deep down could not be bad.
Perhaps Steve really was a ghost,
certainly much kinder than most.
to spend all of your afterlife
sweeping the cowgirls off their feet,
she supposed there could be worse ways
to live out an eternity.
Bittersweetness ran through her mind,
she said,”Thanks Steve, for the good time.
Tonight stood out amongst the best,
and I pray, some day, you’ll find you’re rest….”
They promised that the debt would fade away
So students took the path they thought was right,
To study and find our scholastic way,
To keep our country's future burning bright.
Americans with good minds, sharp and free,
Where cowboys read of heroes in their books,
Cowgirls build homes for all to see,
Beyond the vanity of shallow looks.
But college dreams have turned to heavy lead,
All races and ethnicities in deep.
The interest grows while workers lose their bread.
The promises the lenders didn't keep.
From Texas plains to Floridian sun,
The SAVE plan starts the freedom we should've won.
Netflix, I will not watch you tonight
I wanna spend the evening hungry
I wanna be a pioneer without WiFi
I wanna be a cowboy without a harmonica
I wanna be a pine tree without the sun
Attuned to the emptiness of a night
You give me endless choices
Your shows pique my dopamine
You embrace my eyes with episodes
You are a safe addiction to the lonely
You keep the walls from closing in
You ask me to feed from your body
But, who consumes whom?
Should my eyes drink your distractions?
Or is it the screen that eats my solitude?
Cowboys do not hunger for seasons
They don’t hunt pixels of panthers
What then do predators like me watch?
Panthers do not subscribe to Netflix
What then do pure hunters dream of?
Do they wish for an end to their hunger?
Do they wish to be like pine trees
Every day, they’ll drink the sun
Unlike me who'll not subscribe
Netflix, I’ll keep you off tonight
I’ll hide the remote control just to see
A night without the Great British Baking Show
A night to be a pioneer without a laptop
A night without endless prey to a panther
A renegade on the plains without Wifi
I’ll go to bed dreaming of cowgirls
We can tune out tv all night
Lassoing Netflix and Prime tv, too
Pine trees know overconsumption
The sun ever out of their reach
Cover the canopy, turn off the WiFi
I’m a cowboy without Netflix tonight
I’m a pirate withholding my rum
Disquiet in mind with a murderous hunger
Like a thirsty tree without sunlight
Ravenous till it’s bedtime
Loneliness will be here the next morning
Netflix, what choice do I have?
Sunlight pales in your comparison
This cowboy will return to your bright lights
A little bit disillusioned by the black screen
The experiment in wisdom flickering
Till I tune in tomorrow
It's funny being a kid--
for one thing,
you can never see eye-to-eye
with the grown-ups,
and not just cause they're taller--
no, it's how they think,
in that strange way,
what with all their secrets
and sneaky looks at one another....
But kids are honest, kids are real.
They all live only in the present,
the here and now, but still are
magically, wondrously unconstrained
by place or time or size:
so they can be pirates on the high seas
one day, or brave cavalry charging
savage foes the next, or
maybe happy cowboys and cowgirls
home on the range under
a vast and comforting blue sky.
Kids leave it to the adults
to make a bomb that is real,
to kill or maim, to wage wars
that rubble cities and wreck nations....
Oh, if only kids could always live
in that World of Imagination,
and never become grown-ups!
An old black and white movie
took me back to my childhood
when cowboys rode the range
Major Adams and Flint McCullough leading the Wagon Train,
and Hopalong's ten-gallon white hat
rode the brim of John Wayne's stagecoach in back;
with Roy and Dale saving every day
as Tonto and the Lone Ranger hi-ho silvered away;
Gil Favor and Rowdy Yates blazed the Rawhide trails
as Ben, Adam, Hoss, and Joe laid the Ponderosa tails;
The Mavericks never bet against The Rifleman and Gunsmoke truths
while Wyatt Earp, Matt Dillon, and Bat Masterson made the law fool-proof,
the Rebel and The Restless Gun kept horses ever on the run
and Cheyenne, Davy Crocket, and Daniel Boone
fought both Indians and Trappers without showdowns at noon
those western stars of early radio and television shows after school.
These were the stories of so many heroes, villains and more jewels
the cowboys and cowgirls, and their horses too
revived the west for the fifties youth,
a blast from the past
of the fading western stars.
******((Army of love))******
beautiful mattress
hot and riled explosive gift
nature at her best
************************
***((Gone with the wind))***
the music
listen to the moaning wind
biting to the pain
*************************
******((Over & Over))******
the rainbow
fingertips touch a few drops
kiss of dew
*************************
*****((Midnight Cowgirl))*****
Texas scat, scat
puts it in, in the muddy hole
Cowgirls get it on
*************************
*****((rattle my bones))*****
taste my sweet spot
touch it, feel it, make it move
the earthquake
*************************
****((American Graffiti))******
their limbs trace,
breathing accelerates
pulse race, excessively
************************
*****((Spice or Slice))******
haikus cake for two
hope you enjoy more than one
leaving you arouse
************************
Sexy-U-Contest
Sing, Pink Faeries; sing to the Yellows!
Faery voices rise like bellows.
Dancing 'round their ring, white magic flows,
Shining with the colors of Faery growth!
Cowgirls grin, and horses smile.
They've been in books on shelves for awhile,
One cowgirl with a Western Sunrise in hand,
As cactuses bloom across the land.
Sing, Pink Faeries; sing to the Yellows!
Faery voices rise like bellows.
Dancing 'round their their ring, white magic flows,
Shining with the colors of Faery growth!
Daisies shine in widespread air,
Cats meow with songs so fair.
Songs of Faery pinks for us to be renewed,
Banning shadows, banishing the blues.
Circles, squares, and ovals play,
While Cosmos shines night and day.
Cactuses crown such dreamy love,
So be it---rejoicing from above.
Sing Yellow Faeries; sing to the Pinks!
Faery voices rise with winks!
Dancing 'round their ring, white magic flows,
Shining with the colors of Faery growth