I thought I heard your voice last night
A sweet familiar sound
No other human in my sight
Not a single soul around
Up to the window moseyed I
Towards where the voice was heard
I called out loud while drawing nigh,
"Is that you, my Bluebird?"
Just then a slumbering breeze awoke
And rustled through the bough
So quietly to me it spoke
More zephyr-like than sough,
"Yes, it's her, she sitting there
Way up on that moonbeam
She's calling you, go to her now
For this is not a dream"
Then so I did and up I went
To meet you in the sky
And time stood still the while we spent
T'was only you and I
When morning came I realized
A dream indeed this was
But something caused me to sit up
Olfactory sense abuzz
The scent of Baccarat filled the room
And then and there I knew,
Plus a vase of fragrant lilacs,
These could've only come from you
Just then I heard your voice again
This time from far away,
"I've loved you for a thousand years
And I'll wait for someday"
Categories:
moseyed, i love you, imagery,
Form: Rhyme
To visit a museum
Where you’ve never been before
Means you have the opportunity
To amble and explore.
At the Worcester* Art Museum
Were mosaics on display
And some special arms and armor
In an orderly array.
There were works by famous artists
And a treasure trove amassed
Just awaiting our perusal
As we slowly moseyed past.
In the gift shop, objects beckoned
So I bought a little treat
To remind me of my visit
And to make the day complete.
*pronounced “Wooster,” like “wood”
Categories:
moseyed, art,
Form: Rhyme
Verse 1
Stranger rode into town,
A stern look on his face,
Gave thought to his grim task,
Sworn duty on his mind and dismounted.
Verse 2
Examined his two six guns,
Moseyed to hotel bench,
At noon stood and with care,
Tied holster to his thigh and reflected.
Verse 3
In saloon spoke a name,
Outlaw threw down his drink,
Knew why stranger was there,
Each drew down, guns blazing, unabated.
Verse 4
Fight was o’er in a blink,
Outlaw dead on the floor,
Stranger left the saloon,
Went over to his horse and remounted.
Verse 5
Rode from town at full trot,
Same way that he came in,
Town knew why he had come,
His tin badge told the truth, deputized.
Categories:
moseyed, conflict, death, song,
Form: Cowboy Poetry
The rainy day turned sunny;
We spent it with some friends.
It's sometimes strange and funny
What the forecaster portends.
For we expected weather
Filled with cloudiness and wet
And though we'd be together,
We thought rain was what we'd get.
Instead the sky did brighten
As we moseyed through the day,
Where the sunshine helped to frighten
All those auguries away.
Categories:
moseyed, sunshine,
Form: Rhyme
I was dancing at a dance club
Two stepping all about
When my thumb, it found a belt loop
And I couldn't get it out
I shifted and I wiggled
I thrust my hips out front in time
I bent over and I shimmied
I was twerking on the line
Now, I ain't no Miley Cyrus
You can believe me now or not
I wasn't up there twerking
It's because my thumb was caught
I sashayed and I moseyed
And others got up too
My thumb was still encumbered
What the hell was I to do?
I was twerking like a mad man
Not knowing how, or why
But the pain in my one digit
Just made me want to die
Maybe now I know the reason
Miley Cyrus did her dance
She wasn't up there being slutty
She had her thumb stuck in her pants
Now, I'm through with twerking
And there's is one thing that you'll find
That unlike young Miley Cyrus
You don't want to watch me from behind!!!
Categories:
moseyed, america, cute, dance, fun,
Form: Light Verse
The course was very narrow,
the trail, straight and long -
I moseyed on that perfect path
where I could do no wrong.
I kicked my big, white stallion,
up rocky slopes one day -
and when I made this clearing,
I knew I'd found the way.
And while I sat there on my faith,
atop the highest hill -
and as I peered on valley low,
I judged folks all until -
I found great fault in everyone
no matter, great or small -
so I could sit up highest on
my saddle, straight and tall.
I prayed; "Oh, those pathetic souls
are hardly good for thee -
for never are they good enough,
unless they're just like me.
Just look at their bad habits,
just look at all their stuff,
and why don't they attend my church?
They are not good enough!
They sin in many different ways,
they fall in numbers too.
They just don't understand that they -
are not like me and You."
Now after seeing others
had wandered way off course -
t'was then that I was bucked right off
my high and mighty horse.
©2010 louis gander / www.ganderpoems.org
Categories:
moseyed, god, horse, humorous, judgement,
Form: Quatrain
Billy Law
A simple man rode into harvest town
Tall, with sharp features, and a gun
No words were spoken when he walked by
Locale folk feared him and his kind
People here were evil
You could see it in their eyes
They despised the stranger
He had a badge, walked with a swagger
Chance and thirst brought him to the saloon
He placed a dollar down for a bottle of booze
No one moved
When he was done he turned and drew his gun
Two punks tried to shoot him in the back
They lacked the proper aptitude
And their attitude was warped
So they bled out quickly on the floor
The law man moseyed out the door and said
I’m Billy Law
And never looked back
Created on 10/17/14
By: Earl Schumacker
for “Sketch A Character” – Poetry Contest
Categories:
moseyed, adventure, celebrity, death, identity,
Form: Cowboy Poetry
I watched a caterpillar
As it crawled across the road,
And realized fear was not a part
Of its genetic code.
At least I do not think it is,
For really, I can't know.
That caterpillar's pace, however,
Seemed to be quite slow.
The traffic's very light most times
Yet still, some cars go by;
And if the timing isn't right,
That creature's bound to die.
It moseyed on its little feet
As I walked by in wonder
If it would safely get across
Or else be ripped asunder.
A car sailed past, but I'd moved on;
I kind of held my breath,
Not knowing if a tire might have
Squished my friend to death.
I didn't check, for after all
I would have been too late.
I guess all Nature's creatures
Always tempt the hand of fate.
Categories:
moseyed, introspection, nature
Form: Rhyme
Moonlight crept through the cracks,
of the cabin, to lie on the floor.
Crossed the room without tracks,
savoured each spot as the spot before.
Dust danced on the moonbeams,
as time just trickled past.
Minutes lingered for hours, it seems,
these nights, how long they do last.
Pictures now shaded of you last spring,
as moonlight moseyed on along.
Dreadin’ pictures the moonlight will bring,
wonder asked me, “What went wrong?”
The moon’s light climbs the wall,
chased by the dancin’ dust.
Ascendin’ its creepin’ crawl,
in a few hours, it’ll be dusk.
Passing is another night,
the moon’s light guards against sleep.
Which one of us was right?
This life I cannot keep.
By Jim “Ish” Fellers
Copyright ©: July 10, 2004 ~ Saturday
Categories:
moseyed, cowboy-westernlight, light,
Form: Cowboy Poetry