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Best Poems Written by Catherine Devine

Below are the all-time best Catherine Devine poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

One of Texas's Best

“Back in my day” his stories all would start
I’d  lean in close to listen though I knew ‘em all by heart
He was a living legend, one of Texas’ best
Not just another lawman with a tin star on his chest

He fought along “RIP” Ford & John Coffee Hayes
When Texas was wooly & wild, back in the good old days
“One Riot, One Ranger” I’ve heard it said many times before
from fighting off Commanches to turning the tide of a range war

A Ranger never faltered, never imagined he could lose a fight
He’d  go hell bent for leather just to turn a wrong to right.
From Nueces to Salado Creek he patrolled the border land
Dealing out swift justice with a smoking Colt sitting easy in hand

Hardin, Iron Jacket & Sam Bass thought they could get away
The Rangers ran them down to ground, the stories still are told today
Great Granddad was a hero, one of Texas’s best
Not just another lawman with a tin star on his chest

He passed on the legacy & the stories I’ll now tell
as I hear his voice echo when I start off,  “ I remember well”
So tip your hat & raise your glass to the Rangers out there on patrol
and to all the Shadow Rangers, Rest in Peace, God rest your soul

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Time Flies

Wearing Daddy's boots & cowboy hat & not much in between
Why, Momma, ain't she just about the prettiest baby you've ever seen?
I'm sure wishing she was talking, reading her mind is quite a trick
And she's sure getting awful heavy, I hope she's walking quick 

Whoa there, sassy, Momma look at her running wild
Why I am not sure there ever was a more rambunctious child
Life sure was a picnic when we could just bundle her up & go
Now I get tuckered just watching her, she's a pint size dynamo 

Waist length braids, a gap tooth grin & freckled face
That's our girl, Momma, her calf just took first place
How old is she now, six? No, she can't possibly be eight
Seems she is growing up faster than I'd anticipate 

Well I'll be, look at her standing on the stairs
in a fancy gown, heels & make up putting on womanly airs
this young girl looking back at me, yesterday she was only seven
Now there's a young buck staring at her like he's just seen heaven
 
Wearing a cap & gown, her diploma held high
Look, Momma, there's our girl, getting ready to give her wings a try
Wasn't it just yesterday she was afraid of the monsters under the bed?
Now she's off to college, her own path to tread

Wearing Grandma's pearls & a gown of antique white
Now, Momma, don't start fussing, everything will be all right
Wasn't it just yesterday, I was wishing she was talking?
Now the music is playing & down the aisle we're walking 

Wearing Grandpa's boots & cowboy hat & nothing in between
Why Grandma ain't that the prettiest grandbaby you've ever seen?
Now listen, Sassy, don't go wishing for her to grow up so fast
Treasure each & every moment, create a memory to last 

Be mindful of what you wish for when your babes are small
For in just the blink of an eye, they won't be small at all
You dream of turning back the clock & know you never will
For time flies, just as surely as you wish it would stand still

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Pikes Peak Cranky Critter Confab

Up in Colorado, in the forests of Pikes Peak
A cranky critters conference was held just this week
It was led by a mouse, 3 legs, whiskerless & without tail
"Against a common foe!" He said "We must Unite! We must prevail!"

He hobbled out to the edge of the woods & pointed toward a house
In that house, I once lived a good life, a young & healthy mouse
Then one day the rancher's wife decided she'd had enough
I will say she is a worthy adversary, Mercy she was tough!

He looked around at all the critters, weasel, skunk & squirrel
& said "I hate to admit it but I was bested by a girl!"
Its true, I escaped alive but she got her trophies, too
For I left my tail, paws & whiskers stuck there in her glue 

The squirrel spoke up in a streetwise Brando voice
I'll accept the challenge! For this mission, I am the best choice!
I know this lady well, having enjoyed seeds & nuts out on her deck
I am not afraid of her & will show her we deserve respect

So the squirrel plotted & waited until the time was right
He saw his chance & took it while in the birds she took delight
He scampered up a pine tree & scurried out on to a branch
While she was distracted with a phone call & a pretty bird, he seized his chance

He took a flying leap, landing square on her blond head
Taking great delight in her squeals of surprise & dread
He then let loose with a torrent of the defecation sort
"That's for all the dead & walking wounded!" was his parting retort
 
The moral of this story, for one there must be
Is be mindful of avenging squirrels when you sit beneath a tree

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

My Roots Run Deep

My roots run deep & strong here in this place you curse & scorn
I couldn’t think of a better place than here to have been born

you say this is a dead end town, where dreams whither & die
I know this town has nurtured my dreams, seen them soar & fly

You say the cowboy has left & gone, run off by urban sprawl
Yet every morning, I still hear the young calves bawl

you talk of crime run amok & people no one can trust
I choose my friends carefully & fight for the right & the just

You say this is no place to raise a child, that they’ll not learn respect
but its our job to raise them up, their course in life direct

You say that no one gives a damn about another’s plight
but I have seen this town come together to turn a wrong to right

You say this town holds you back & you will never gain success
I can feel her sing my praises as I aim to do my best

I will stay here in this valley & no matter where I roam
I know my roots run deep here & I will always come back home

Pack your bags & go on down the road in search of better grazing
One day you will come full circle & return here to your raising

For your roots run deep here too, though you may curse & shout
and roots, home & belonging are what life is all about


© October 2003

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

The Cowboy Way

I’ve ridden many a trail in my life & regrets I have few
For I lived the life I chose & to the Cowboy way stayed true
I will not ask for a mansion when I stand before God’s throne
I’ll be happy with a bedroll, a good herd & a sturdy roan

A cowboy’s dream is what I lived for so many happy years
I had my spread & family, made a good living from the calves & steers
So do not cry when you think of me, for I would rather see you smile
Rest easy in the knowing that because of you, my life was not a trial

Do not stand around & speak in hushed & hallowed tones
For there is nothing in this casket, except for husk & bones
My Spirit saddled up & hit the trail, heeding the Master’s call
And though I ride for him now, I’ll miss you one & all

In the creak of saddle leather & the jinglebobs you hear
I hope you think of me & know that I am ever near
I ride a range that knows no end, no stampede or rain
And I’ll keep one saddled for you until we meet again

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Ode To a Blueberry Roan

I was heading to the bunkhouse, after a wild night on the town
dancing & romancing & one too many round
Back in my wild & woolly days, one more rowdy Saturday night
full of cheap beer & whiskey & the necessary fight
I set Ol' Gus on auto pilot, he knew the way back to the spread
And I set to fighting with those rotgut demons dancing in my head
We were getting pretty close to home, so I eased up on the bit
when all of a sudden that dang horse he up & quit
His ears were all pricked forward, listening quite intense
I caught a drift of what might pass for music, somewhere beyond the fence
It took a lot of persuading, cussing & cajoling
but I got ol' Gus headed for all the caterwauling 
the sound got more peculiar as we crested the hill
the memory of what I saw that moonlit night stays with me still
for I had stumbled on a peculiar party, hosted by a peg leg dog
and there was a one eyed pole cat doing comedic monologue
A Blueberry Roan soon took the stage, singing Motley Crue
I swear I saw a big ol' ornery hog with a "born to squeal" tattoo
There were bulls & Heifers dancing, I couldn't believe my eyes
why those bovine wore spikes and body piercings, in places utterly unwise
There where horses with mohawk hairdos head banging to the song
I swear to you, Ol' Gus, he began to sway & sing along
Now I know what you're thinking & I most heartily agree
it was the moon & wind playing tricks, along with rotgut whiskey
You city folks can keep your pink elephants parading in tutus
for this cowboy was shown the light by a Roan in blue suede shoes
I gave up hell raising & carousing, said so long to the honky-tonk life
Happy now to stick to ranching & dancing under the moon with my wife
But every now & again, when the wind blows & the moon is shining bright
I swear I can hear the livestock laughing & head banging through the night

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Trails Old & New

From the Black Hills to the prairies,
he sighed as his eyes turned hard & dark
That was the path of the Buffalo,
His finger traced a wide & sweeping arc
You could tell he longed to be out there
Just his dreams & the wide open plains, 
Crying out in triumph, as a buffalo he slew
Now, the prairie is filled with big rigs & amtrak trains
Still he dances & honors the old ways
and waits for the prophecy to come true
 
From Texas in to Saskatchewan,
he sighed as his eyes turned hard & dark
Along the Western Trail they pushed the longhorns
His finger traced a wide & sweeping arc
You could tell he longed to be out there
Just his dreams & a dusty cattle trail
Now, the cattle trails are covered in asphalt
And Big rigs haul everything from cattle to the U.S. mail
Still he rides & honors a time long past
Marveling at the blending of trails, old & new 

From Hoover Dam out across the desert,
he sighed as his eyes turned hard & dark
That's the route the big rigs run,
His finger traced a wide & sweeping arc
You could tell he longed to be out thereJust his dreams & a wide open highway,
In a decked out Peterbilt, shiny & brand new
a different road, another adventure as night blends to day
Hauling cattle, freight or cars, didn't matter
each sunrise brings a different picture window view 

© January 2004

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Buckaroo Days

Hey there Buckaroo
what’s your hurry?
Momma hollered after
her pride ‘n joy

she smiled swiftly
as little boots clomped
with spurs jingle janglin’
across the kitchen floor

“Aw Momma, don’t worry!
I’ll be home before dinner
but I drew the rank bronc
It’s a sure winner!”

Then whistling Lil Joe
and roping the cat
her boy mounted up
on his trusty hobby horse

“Don’t slam the door”
She said with a laugh
has the hinges rattled
& the old screen door crashed

He was already gone
riding silver screen dreams
that old grey black hat
setting low on his ears

Hey there Lil Buckaroo
Don’t be in such a hurry
Time passes quick enough
You still have stick ponies to curry

Too soon you’ll grow tall
& become a young man
chasing girls & fast cars
enjoy your childhood while you can

In a blink of an eye
or faster than that
you’ll no longer wear  boots
toss a rope or wear that old hat

You’ll follow your own path
but where ever it leads
I hope you remember
Your Lil Buckaroo deeds

Hey Lil Buckaroo
slow down, what’s your hurry?
Don’t gallop too quickly
through these Buckaroo Days

© February 2003

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

In the Long Ago & Used To Be

What do you see when you look at his face
Weather beaten & etched by hard work’s steady pace?
You see a broken down drunken old fool
I see a vaquero, a cowboy old school
These cattle, those horses, this land are his life
They helped him provide for his children & wife

The Vail brothers, Escalantes, Leons, Acosta, Andrada
From the X-9 to Del Lago, Rincon Creek to La Posta Quemada
Lopez, Etheridge, De La Ossa & Daly, all hard working men
Holding strong to the traditions of a life from way back when
From the base of the Rincons, their cattle once freely roamed
These Cowboys are the lifeblood of this valley we call home

I looked up to these men & others like them when I was a youth
They taught me to work hard, stand tall & always speak the truth
They rail at the developers who never seem to keep their word
Praying that they’ll still have enough ground to run their herds
They watch as suburbia comes flooding into a valley once pristine
As ticky tacky houses turn good grazing lands into an urban scene

The word out on the city streets is that the cowboy way is gone
But as long as there are horses then the Cowboy will ride on
Somewhere up in New River, a cowboy still rides out tonight
To gaze out over a moonlit range, far from the city’s blight
In Cascabel, an Old Vaquero & his grandchild working the pen
Are doing their part to see that the cowboy way never ends

What do you see when you look in his face?
Weather beaten & etched by hard work’s steady pace?
You see a tattered old man, shaky hands & blurry gaze
I see the heroes of my youth, hear the tales of the glory days
When cattle outnumbered people & Cowboys still roamed free
Back when the West was Wild, back in the long ago & used to be

Details | Catherine Devine Poem

Still Here

Though you slipped
from this earth 
so long ago
nigh on twenty years
 
I still feel you
here beside me
Hear your voice 
within my soul 

As I walk 
behind the back chutes
at the Sonoita Rodeo
your ghost elusive
follows me 

I guess it's true
what the old ones say
about gone but 
not forgotten 

For You're still here
in heart & spirit
every melody & tune
I dance in memory
with you

(c) September 2002