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Jw Fellers Poem
It’s a’ hundred an’ ten,
'Neath the shade of my chin,
An’ the prairie’s cracked like old leather.
Looks like my skin,
Where a boys face once had been,
The years; how they do gather?
Time’s been cruel to the Staked Plains,
Once gorged by ancient rains,
Now seized in her dusty wrath.
Barren amber grass now remains,
Scorched breath tries removin' her stains,
Beseechin’ her forbidden bath.
Pony or calf my only shade,
‘Cept what little Resistol made,
Bestowed Blessin’s upon an’ open range.
A Prairie Moon brings little aide,
North Star brought a wind laid,
Thanks Lord, it’s a welcomed pleasant change.
By: Jim “Ish” Fellers
Copyright ©; June 1, 2008 ~ Sunday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
God took six days to create this earth.
After some rest, He plotted a cowgirl's birth.
"Folks have got off track since time begin."
"My Cowgirl will be perfect," He thought with a grin.
"Problems are Global since it started in motion."
I’ll fix this mess with My Cowgirl notion."
As He pondered His stars an' His moonlit skies.
He captured that beauty to put in her eyes.
"My Sun's warmth will be bred into her heart."
"No stature of creature will be bred as smart."
He looked upon the Rockies an' the beauty there in.
He thought, "That's the beauty I'll put in her grin."
He thought of His fire an' how hot it does burn.
"That's the intensity of My Cowgirl's concern."
"My oceans are strong an' mighty like Me."
"Just how I want My Cowgirl to be."
He thought how His trees do flex in His wind.
"My Cowgirl will flex, like these she will bend."
"My prairies have stretched both vast an' wide".
"That's the same Love she'll carry inside."
"The measure an' vastness of the depths of My oceans."
"The same measure is set for My Cowgirl's emotions."
He pondered the gentleness of His spring day rain.
"That's the gentle ease I want in her brain."
"My birds toil tirelessly for endless hours."
"Man can't count the bounty of My flowers."
"My Cowgirl will match the energy of My birds."
"Like My flowers her beauty can't be captured with words."
He reflects back on life an' how it begins.
The future of it all an' how it all ends.
That's the way it is an' the way it should be.
"She's dog-gone near perfect, for My whole world to see."
By Jim "Ish' Fellers
Copyright ©: March 24, 2004 ~ Wednesday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
The doors opened wide,
A Cowboy tired an’ worn.
Tears in his hide,
Even his chaps were torn.
Walkin’ towards’im, the old Padre heard,
He’as mumblin’ a story wild.
Sixty moons back he’d lost the herd,
How he liked ‘ole Curly cooked mild.
Twelve moons back God gave’em gold,
Some nuggets, a little dust.
Faintly the Cowboy told,
“Only Him can a feller trust.”
He reached threw his chaps,
Slowly their hands embrace.
Exhausted he nearly collapse,
Hearin’ the dust leave it’s trace.
All to Him I’d give,
The first house of His I see.
Reacon He let me live,
A Padres’ Cross set’em free
He opened up his hand.
As the Cowboy staggered away.
Rocks an’ siftin’ sand,
Helped the Cowboy pray.
By: JW “Ish” Fellers ~ TexasCowboyIsh
September 21, 2009 ~ Monday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
Her spurs are smaller,
An' so are her jeans.
Her attitudes are taller,
These Cowpoke Queens.
In a Cowboy's world,
She has learned to cope.
Whether gowned an' pearled,
Or a lip full of cope.
She will administer a shot,
Re-bed a stall.
For respect she has fought,
To doubt her takes gall.
She will pull a calf,
Braid pretty a tail.
You dare not to laugh,
When you out throw a bale.
She will load her truck,
Bags each a hundred pound.
She don't live on luck,
Skill's where she's ground.
She will rasp an' shod,
An' curry a pony.
She ain't no fraud,
She ain't no phony.
She will rope a steer,
On a bull, find a seat.
She knows nothin' of fear,
Crow she won't eat.
Letters she will end,
With X's followed by O's.
Fences she will mend,
With hair in ribbons an' bows.
Rather her horse to kiss,
Than some, spiffy Beau.
Nothin' there to miss,
She'll rightly tell ya so.
This world without a cowgirl?
I shant dare to dream.
Mixed perfect how swirl,
Chocolate in vanilla ice cream.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: February 26, 2004 ~ Thursday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
Spending a lifetime on the Texas Panhandle prairies in and around Amarillo
exposes a feller to a unique life style.
As a youngster and continuing into early manhood, I flirted with the aggregation
of words to captivate the attention of any audience that would listen; whether that audience
was a girl, the guy’s, or just whomever would listen. To be honest though, mostly just to
gather attention.
To lasso words with a pen, corral them within the confines of a margin, and brand
them for my own is a thought that just came to me within the past couple of years. Though I
was exposed to Cowboy Poetry my entire life, the honored title of a Cowboy Poet was for
some of my close friends and others, but not a title I considered for myself.
Since making the decision to become a Cowboy Poet, I have performed my own
original poetry from Eastern Tennessee, through-out Texas, up through Illinois, across to
Idaho, down through Utah to Southern California, and many, many point’s in-between.
I’ve been honored to accept many awards from the International Library of
Poetry, the International Society of Poets, the American Poets Society just to name a few. I
have some of my works published in books, on CD’s, in magazines, newspapers, newsletters
and of course many websites.
JW ~ TexasCowboyIsh
Copyright ©: May 04th, 2001
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
He rode in from Texas, calmly chewing a piece of straw.
Folks rumored him a Ranger, some sorta man of Law.
An expressionless face, eyes close 'n stern.
Long barreled pistol, well kept 'n tied down firm.
It was the thirtieth of October, I remember it well.
Sit back 'n relax, I'll narrate the Stranger's tale.
Beer 'n whiskey shots, made the Stranger's tongue loose.
Tugs at his scarf, revealed scars from a noose.
Said he'd come to Denver, to escape the prairie fires.
Recipients of his story, placed him amongst certain liars.
Utterances of bright lights, in a calm night watch dream.
Stampeded cattle, loud voices 'n a haunting scream.
Empty hollow eyes, like death the Stranger was cold.
The annual midnight curse, is what the Ranger told.
Awoke in the saddle, by a Dark Angel of certain death.
Calm night air stirred, vapors rise from cattle's breath.
Focus controlled visions of the chilled dark night.
Squinted images appear from his questioned sight.
At one stroke past midnight, the curse we all had seen.
The Stranger changed to a man of straw, twas now Halloween!
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright © : August 31st, 2003 ~ Sunday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
I looked out across this vast prairie,
an' I saw her as the cattle were bawlin'.
Bright an' nimble as a fairy,
at twilight as the stars were fallin'.
An image forms my sweet Sherry,
in knots my gut kept gallin'.
I called to her in haste so weary,
an' reached as I kept callin'.
I fear my search so leery,
trapped under a veil of pallin'.
Lightin' flashes so bright, so aerie,
thunder encourages the wind to yawlin'.
With noses raised high they serry,
bawl changes to that of squallin'.
Startled an' swiftly themselves they carry,
Sprung from the cantle where I was lollin'.
Vision blurred my sight so bleary,
my emotions inside kept brawlin'.
Eyes glassy now an' glary,
heart beats stutter now an' stallin'.
My mind shifts to thoughts so merry,
myself I shant keep maulin'.
Memories forever will tarry,
roweled flanks as I kept haulin'.
My pony stumbles it's so scary,
dust flies as I am sprawlin'.
Us both they'll have to bury,
say words that are sad an' drawlin'
My life God will review an' query,
gathered as a fisherman trawlin'.
Assigned to the Heavenly Prairie,
I ride drag as the cattle are bawlin'.
My Pard is an Angelic Fairy,
His name I keep Praisin' an' callin'.
For now my Pard is the Son of Mary,
to Him I am eternally thrallin'.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: February 05, 2004 ~ Thursday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
Ride brush,
stray search.
Sit high,
leather perch.
Lasso thrown,
dally wrapped.
Wind howls,
brim flapped.
Chaps warm,
gloved hand.
Twenty years,
ride brand.
Spurs jingle,
double rowel.
Heading home,
round corral.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: August 06, 2003
Wednesday @ 1:40 a.m.
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
By day you work the fence, you’re out stretching the wire.
By night you read of Grace and stare into the fire.
Come morning you fix a breakfast to last you all day.
Come evening your supper is a better reward than pay.
Come morning you eat a breakfast fit for a king.
Come evening you’re so hungry you’ll eat ‘bout anything.
Coffee warns of eggs and biscuits and such.
Supper comes along usually ‘bout dusk.
Tending a herd on the wide open plains.
Gives a body time to think of all sorta thangs.
Thangs like how great a country we live in today.
Here in America, the good ‘ole U. S. of A.
A country so vast, with big cities on each side.
But here in the wide-open middle is where I reside.
A country founded on God, they sat sail for where ever the wind leads.
Strange how we all seek the same God, how some get off in the weeds.
No one knows freedom better than the American Cowboy.
Freedom’s nothing to sneeze at and it certainly ain’t no toy.
Some folks don’t like our freedom and man, with out a clue.
Stole some planes and right into our life they flew.
Last week these guys tried to take our freedom away.
Hurt some folks in the most barbaric way.
On the prairie they’re snakes and all kinds of varmints.
But nothing as mean as these guys that came here to harm us.
If critters are out and pose some kind of threat.
Yank a hog-leg, fire a round, you’re good to go I’ll bet.
Hear me Lord as I stare into the fire and say.
Rid their minds of this evil thinkin’ is what I pray.
We can’t reason why things like that happen.
You’re the only one that knows Lord, I reacon.
Our leaders have shown Your Spirit as their witness.
Our countrymen have followed suit, just as You’ve convicted us.
I’m thankful all I do is stretch fence and rope in an occasional stray.
Than to have to do what Bush has had to do the past few days.
Lord; be with us, guide our leaders with what they “Have” to do.
Thanks for uniting our country, You’re faith we must prove.
By the fire I read where we’re here today and gone tomorrow.
Life’s short, live it to the fullest, ain’t no time for sorrow.
Come morning breakfast has been better here of late.
Come evening supper has been especially great.
Seems we have an awful lot to appreciate.
Since the time of the attack, to date.
Lord; guide the boys, give them wisdom with what they do and say.
This ‘ole cowboy is fightin’ the war on my knees as I pray.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: September 18, 2001 ~ Tuesday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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Jw Fellers Poem
As the sun starts to rise,
This cowboy opens his eyes,
Dew trapped in the mornin' frost.
I thank God for my freedom,
All the times I need 'im,
I tend to forget the cost.
I ride o'er this prairie,
Durin' this season to be merry,
Ponderin' the year that has past.
Often times were good,
More than there should,
Occasionally my luck didn't last.
Now it's deep in December,
Ah, the prairie 'n its splendor,
A hawk as it circles the sky.
A cowboy could get soft,
On new hay in a loft,
'N a roof to keep his bedroll dry.
My leg draped o'er the tree,
The horn in the bend of my knee,
I look out across these vast plains.
I heave a big sigh,
Swipe a tear from my eye,
Sat up 'n take hold the reins.
We've been drivin' this herd,
For a week 'n a third,
I figure one week more.
If the weather holds out,
We'll make it no doubt,
But nature could even the score.
Tomorrow they say,
Will be Christmas Day,
I thank God for the Miracle Birth.
Jesus 'as sent here to save us,
That's the gift God gave us,
Certainly more than this cowboy's worth.
By Jim "Ish" Fellers
Copyright ©: December 11, 2003 ~ Thursday
Copyright © Jw Fellers | Year Posted 2009
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