Open Poetry #18 |
Cowboy Tales |
John Yaws Senior Member
since 1999-10-09
Posts 860Texas |
I was sitting in the bunkhouse- With “Sunny Jim” Malone... Outside the rain was falling, And we both were far from home. Early Sunday morning, The coffee strong and black, I said, “It’s better settin’ here- Than in some old line shack .” We started tellin’ stories- Of the places we had worked. Of dinks, and solid horses, And hands who hadn’t shirked... Of wrecks, and them near misses- That make a person think, And of a hundred cowboys- Who’d drowned themselves with drink . We talked of good bronc riders- And men good with a rope. About the things the Good Book says, To give a rider hope... We talked of places we had been And girls that we had loved, And how we’d saddled up and left When push turned into shove . We’d talked of driving cattle- And going to the sales... We whiled away the hours, With our old, cowboy tales. |
||
© Copyright 2002 John R. Yaws - All Rights Reserved | |||
Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Slinger~ What a delightfully melodic read ~ I so enjoy the cowboy nostalgia in your poetry~ *Hugs* ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
||
Marshalzu
since 2001-02-15
Posts 2681Lurking |
This was an absoloutly wonderful read for me, I really enjoyed reading it, from start to finish, thank you for sharing this Zu |
||
⇧ top of page ⇧ | ||
All times are ET (US). All dates are in Year-Month-Day format. |