Short Bronco Poems
Short Bronco Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Bronco by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Bronco by length and keyword.
we saddled up
wild bronco clouds
riding them high and
riding them proud
this spiritual journey
through the great
grandfather's sky
she's a
bronco
but not
trying too
hard to
knock
me off
her braids
long reins
i hold
tight
but we
both are
enjoying
the ride
Form:
Cowboy Bronco Riding Bucking Jumping Horse
riding,
jumping,
bucking,
running,
Cowboy riding, jumping bronco;
Horse is running, bucking-Woo-oh!
2/1/18
by James Edward Lee Sr.
I'm ridin' on the range
And I'm lookin' really strange
Guess most folks I'd appall
Thru all the miles of pain
Thru the wind and thru the rain
Wearin' Pap's old chaps and that's all
Ladies lounged in his light,
fanning the flames of overheated desires.
He, the slick poser, the bad bronco
oiled his parts while he cantered past them,
whipping his buttocks
in a most convincing manner.
There once was a lass from Toronto
Loved being ridden like a bucking bronco
Enjoyed a rough ride
“Ride 'em cowboy” she cried
Till her senses they became totally blotto
© Jack Ellison 2015
Limerick: Once a lolling lassie from Laredo
Once a lolling lassie from Laredo
Jumped on a bronco to enter a rodeo
But the steed fell in love
With the curve of her alcove
And sped away on a honeymoon to Mejico.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
Excuse me while I take time out to mourn
I can see the headlines tomorrow morn
BRONCOS TAKE A BASHING
COACH GIVES TEAM TONGUE LASHING
The outcome left Bronco boosters forlorn
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Listen to poem:
see the seesaw sea
send its waves to rock
the barrel stave wooden seahorse
to and fro, askew and slow
though I'm feeling
skew-whiff in the waddle
and iffy sickly not well
I think I'll stay
riding the bare-back bronco
to whittle the whiles away
letting the be, what's may
till the break of day
Between the end of
Winter and the buds of Spring--
Stuck in Frustration.
Between the end of
Winter and the buds of Spring--
Anticipation.
Spring's Bronco Bucking,
Nature's poised to burst forth--The
Calendar shouts 'Halt!'
(Note: This poem is a "traiku:" three consecutive, interconnected haikus)
Bygone days
Climbing trees
Paper boats
Scabby knees
Duffle coats
Pick n mix
Runny nose
Thrupenny bits
Scruffy clothes
Flying kites
Desperate Dan
Conquer fights
Tins of spam
Spots n pimples
Teachers cane
Hunting thimbles
Bronco lane
Skimming stones
Hopscotch
Nit combs
Chicken pox
Kicking cans
Running wild
Building dams
Fifties child
"Burning Bridges" was his first released song
Back in the fifties it didn't catch on
In the mid sixties a song he would bring
The movie "Paint Your Wagon " was where he'd sing
Then a duet with Merle Haggard incurred
"Bronco Billy", the flick where it was heard
Though singing was not his most powerful tool
As actor/director Clint Eastwood would rule!
We cowboys on this side of the pond
Get out of bed with boots and spurs on
To ride our bucking bronco golden stallions
As you mount your nags on the weak side of the ocean
Yes, we snicker as you call elevators 'lifts'
And your truckers call a semi a 'lorry'
But daring to call a cop or a smokey a 'bobby' ~
Odds bodkins, bloke! Please say that you're sorry!
.
she bronco
said
hern
walk'd way
a
stallion
do'd
')
*"do'd"; what are stallionz use'd
for <]')
Bronco Don
My name’s Bronco Don ,
an I’m not passing on,
cos I’m busted.
I can’t ride me horse,
Me spurs look much worse,
Cos they’re rusted.
The Shielas can run,
but I can’t catch a one ,
Cos I’ve lusted.
Me stockwhip will sing,
Around any flaming thing,
I’ve mustered.
An I’m springing about,
An checking you out,
Till I’m rusted.
So bury me deep,
Away from the sheep,
Cos I’m not cutting the mustard.
Don Johnson
A semblance of purgatory,
My own flatulence due to unknown depravity.
Wildflowers burst and I buckle like a bronco.
The dynamite is all wet, anyway.
I bristle in lawns from over 20 years ago.
My own feelings are hard to define.
Probing into slipping into holes.
My other mind is on vacation somewhere,
Or in a very important meeting,
With everything figured out.
Whereas I am a snail wearing a great crown,
The world spinning in missed direction.
There is the sweet sound of birds that sing
And then, there is the annoying cacophony
of horns, HON- keen!
The erratic incessant chirp and beep
of cars remotely locked
Makes for an eclectic electric symphony
Where birds are mocked
Can a Horny Yellow Wrangler
find a lonsome dove?
There is sadness
in the single Bronco
that knows no love
Oh, this is just all too *****
Another horn
Is sounding near...
In the woods, in the lot.
what did grandpa know before my verbal flaks?
did he see me peeking over the sofa arm
I give him clues to find his little Pax
hoping I can enthrall him with my charm.
loved to sit on his knee and get a back rub
then on his leg to ride bronco style
being a dude like him I am called his bub
but he is my fa fa that enjoys my smile.
he helps me up when I crawl over to him
then I climb up on his chest
looking down with my big loving grin
I know that grandpa loves me the best
Hop on for the thrill o your life
A bronco might throw you in seconds
But on this ride you'll manage the reins
Though your horse may be a runaway train
You'll go up, you'll come down
You'll for sure bounce around
Will you be able to stay the course?
It depends on how you manage the horse...
Here's a tip for you cowboys out there
For those who've been known to swear
Don't place it all on one horse -- Don't you dare
Go ahead: Buy those stocks ~ Say a prayer!
A quarter flip, skinny dip
Cool creek, full of trout
Homerun hit, tobacco spit
Moonshine night out
Team shirt, center dirt
Fastballs were a breeze
Mini skirt, fun to flirt
Weakness in the knees
Dirt pile, crooked smile
Pray before the pitch
Worth while, drunk dial
Bronco in the ditch
Dad’s pissed, slapped wrist
Shotgun in the dodge
Can’t miss, first kiss
Cow tippin, giggin frogs
Had a blast, gone fast
Class of 93
Raise a glass, to my class
The way things used to be