Ranch Poems - Poems about Ranch

Ranch hand

.

            oh yeah
      i'm get'n pickled 
    just think'n 'bout it

thuh nymph lean'd back
'gainst thuh fence post
         her flannel 
        

ranch hands

Enveloping cliche’s
Without a building in the night
The locust bind
Inside your socks
Chasing you back
You not old, your hapless
And there in the grave
You hold on time
Running away from the train
The lakes aren’t wet
They exit prayers we’ve saved
And I crawled forward to grace

Greener on the Other Side of the Fence

He wears thick gloves when he strings the barbed wire,
fashioning a thorny fence from prickly metal spines,
reminding me that cattle like to know the boundaries,
the edges of a pasture, clever green grass hesitating
on the borders of a place meant for those heavy bodies,
warm and mellow like the faded flowers breathing silently,
hesitating on the promises of

home at the ranch

Home at the Ranch 


Once, I had a big ranch in, Oregon, technically it is still mine
but I have no way to prove it
one day and far from the ranch, inspecting fences, sudden 
cold storm hit, to survive, I shot my horse
cut his stomach open, crept inside, and quickly fell asleep
Awoke, when the storm was

Monroe

Monroe was always up before dawn got too deep
cookin' coffee and bacon while we're still asleep
When five o'clock rolled around he'd ring that damn bell
Many a morning I'd liked to send him to hell

Good Night and Sweet Dreams

I always hear the sound of guitars strumming
harmonica music and cowboys humming
when I feel a warm night breeze upon my face

Whenever I look at a summer night sky 
or hear the sound of a coyote's lonesome cry
it always takes me back to that peaceful place

Where men who did not care where they spit or cussed
with

Castration

Henry started a punchin’ 
at the ripe old age of 15
There just ain’t no way of knowin’
all of the things he’s done and seen

All those years are far behind him
since a young cowboy in his prime
Now there is nothing left for him
but to whittle away at time

His days out on the range are gone
can’t quite

Just the Way It Was

‘Twas way back in them days 
when the ranch owner’s ways
was just about the only law there was around

Rancher’s money was king
and gun violence reigned
till marshal Ben Miller made his way into town

Well that town was real rough
till Ben said ‘twas enough
that’s when he used his guns to bring law to the street

But there's always

That Was the End of Them Yahoos

I was out riding the fences one day
and spied these here suits and their fancy car
They said they was from some oil company
and started cutting their way through the wire

Well I says whoa down a bit young fellas
I proceeded with my best daunting stare
There's a reason that no trespassing sign
has been hung up on that

Fancy Folk

I was at this here shindig just the other night
was all duded up and was feeling all right
When this fancy fella saunters over my way
it 'peers to me like he might have something to say

Gawking at my boots, rodeo buckle and band
I guess he figured it out that I worked the land
He tips his wine

A Rancher's Wife

She's up in the morning
two hours before dawn
has done most of her chores
before the lights come on

Already milked the cows
and gathered up the eggs
even put liniment 
on the horse’s sore legs

Bacon and eggs are cooked
the biscuits are baked brown
the gravy has been stirred
and the plates laid down

Once the pans are empty
the last bread's been buttered
the

Little Adobe House

Little adobe house on 160 acres
She grows flowers. I grow corn
Tomatoes, watermelon, etc.
Peace, love, hope, and joy
Grow themselves

Porch faces orange blazes
Draped over the rugged Mules
And a barn owl hoovers over
An old water tank with a bunny
In her talons for her 
So-ugly-they're-cute hatchlings
Ladder leaned on it
to climb up and see 'em

Brothers and sisters drive from town
For

There Wallez

1 cup of cooked chopped bacon
7 tablespoons of dehydrated garlic
5 tablespoons of olive oil
,5 tablespoons of butter
5 tablespoons of crushed garlic
5 tablespoons of dehydrated onion
1/4 cup of sour cream
4 tablespoons of butter milk cultures
2 tablespoons of lemon zest
1 tablespoon of fish stock
1/4 cup of crushed sun dried tomatoes
5 tablespoons of dried parsley
1& 1/2 cup of

Snow At the Red Fox Ranch

Snow at the Red Fox Ranch
David J Walker

There is snow 
At the Red Fox Ranch
On New Year’s day
The Bucks and the Does
Have come out to play
In the cover of the cold 
And the old oak grove of trees 
And know by heart the way
To flee if we get too near
The Red Fox Ranch 
Dressed in

Sunrise At the Twilight Ranch

He sleeps late
because the milk cows have dried up
and the bulls long slaughtered.
There are no cowboys in the bunk house
just a couple of old chickens
pecking the dirt floor,
they produce, at most, one real egg a week
the rest are malformed by spilled ink.
However in the leaky cabin
the big brown teapot
is stuffed with scrapes of poetry
waiting to

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