Too soon, too late
Fate burns the gate
Time comes around
In mellow grounds
Space feels odd thill
Of a new fill
I know just how
This here and now
Writes just take time
To space rhyme chime
Words in a row
Forge afterglow
Leon Enriquez
11 September 2019
Singapore
He loves them darn cowboys, more than the rest,
Ropin' an a ridin' an doin' what they do best.
If it be on the long cattle run, or in the bunkhouse.
He's guessin' he would shore 'nuff die with 'em
Rather than be trapped with those city folk.
Like some kind of a church-mouse louse.
He ain't got nothin' against them dudes in the city,
But they can't hold a candle to them men that get gritty.
There's nothin' like busting the bronc an' ridin' the bull;
Like ridin' a tornado, it's all that he can darn think of
That gives him at great thill and makes his joys roll.
Lovin' those darn cowboys, is better than any kind o' love.
Like his boots, buckles and spurs that he is most fond of t'day,
Theren't much much a cowboy who loves cowboys can say.
An' Like the Alamo, a cowboy should remember his kind,
Even if it seems at times bein' put to the test.
And the map ain't always the territory for one to find...
He loves them darn cowboys, more than the rest.
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