Open Poetry #14 |
One of a Dying Breed |
John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas |
One Of A Dying Breed I find myself too often- Still living in the past... I know those days are over, But I’d like to make them last. Although I was young and foolish- I was strong, and quick, and bold- And life is sweet when you’ve no sense- Alas, I’m growing old. I used to punch wild cattle, And wilder, rougher men. A bedroll, and saddle... Were all I owned back then. The desert in morning... Is a setting so serene... That it can be compared to- Nothing else, that I have seen. How I love that Painted Desert- Out in Arizona land. And the brushlands of South Texas- Down along the Rio Grande. There is something about saddling- Long before daylight... To earn your keep by straddling, A bronc, till late at night... The friendships formed are lasting. And the memories sublime. That’s why I have to set them down Within these words of rhyme. Born out time? Perhaps I was- And many have agreed- I’ve had the privilege to be... One of a dying breed! |
||
© Copyright 2001 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Cpat Hair
since 2001-06-05
Posts 11793 |
Nicely done... always have enjoyed your poems... |
||
Charisma
since 2000-09-30
Posts 5906lost in blue pages |
Glad that I take a look way back the walls and I just found this beauty. Charisma |
||
Denise
Moderator
Member Seraphic
since 1999-08-22
Posts 22648 |
Great poem, John! I enjoyed this very much! |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |