Monthly Archives: November 2013
Seek
Posted by wfosterwelborn
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
Seek not for that which is not,
Nor ever was.
Follow not after lies
Or man-made cause.
Seek out truth and
“Peace be still.”
Let your heart and soul
Be filled.
Seek for that which was
And still is.
Love and Life —
Both are His.
More precious than the Rubaiyat
of Omar Khayyam.
Seek and find the one
And only true “I AM.”
Posted in Uncategorized
Tags: autumn leaves, Heart, I Am, Life, Love, Peace, poem, Poetry, seek, soul, Thoughts, Truth, Understanding, wisdom
Cowboy Heaven
Posted by wfosterwelborn
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
The cowboys are gone,
At least so I hear.
“Not so,” said my friend,
“Lend me your ear.”
Acting very quickly
On my friend’s good advice,
I went to Cowboy Heaven
And did a double take — twice.
The dance hall was crowded,
And, folks, I will swear
There were cowboys and cowgirls
Dancing everywhere.
One tall wrangler
Stood out so stark…
He wore a neon hatband
That glowed in the dark.
He wore an oilskin outbacker
That reached his boot tops.
He was sweating and stomping
To fast country pop.
Another short puncher
Cam shufflin’ along.
He was dressed up for dancin’
And bad-to-the-bone.
He wore a flannel checkered shirt
While his partner wore lace.
His huge belt buckle shone.
Mascara ran down her face.
Another wrangler came driftin’ by
Wearing sandals and socks.
He bellied up to the bar
And ordered Schnapps on the rocks.
It sounded like thunder
As boots shook the floor.
They did the Boot Scootin’ Boogie
And were anxious for more.
One huge cowgirl
Dancing and struttin’ around
Must have weighed in
At three hundred pounds.
She and her puncher
Were having a fling.
She was large enough
To rope steer with a string.
The music was so loud
My nerves were a-tingling.
This one rowdy romped by…
His spurs were a-jingling.
Cowboy Heaven, Do-si-dos,
Electric Slide, and Cotton-eyed Joe,
Achy Breaky, sweat and strain,
Cowboys and cowgirls feelin’ no pain.
The music slowed down…
You could even hear the tune.
Some crooner was singing
About a Neon Moon.
Why did I worry myself
About the cowboys being gone?
They’re all at the Cowboy Heaven,
And they’ve all found a home.
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Tags: autumn leaves, boots, cowboy, Cowboy boot, Cowboy Heaven, Dance hall, Dancing, Electric Slide, Heaven, home, music, Neon Moon, poem, Poetry, tune, wrangler
The Cowboys Are Gone
Posted by wfosterwelborn
This poem comes from Autumn Leaves:
A season for all things,
Boot prints faded from the land.
The cowboys are gone
Like Custer’s Last Stand.
No more night herder singing
A lonesome cattle call.
No friendly campfire banter
In soft Texas drawl.
No more loaded chuck wagon,
Clattering over the trail,
And no crabby trail cook
Giving the cowboys pure Hell!
No more dust and sweat,
Long hours in the saddle.
Riding swing or drag,
Always herding the cattle.
No more painted ladies.
No wild cattle town.
The sun for the cowboy
Has already gone down.
The prairie’s plowed up
Thanks to a man named John Deere.
The cowboys are long gone,
But the cows are still here.
They’re kept in large feedlots,
Fed good every day —
Never to graze on green grass
The old fashioned way.
They’ll never smell a branding fire
Or feel a branding iron.
They’ll know only force-feeding,
And they’ll sure know barbed wire.
I watched a rancher
Out in the rain and muck,
Feeding his cattle
From his old pick up truck.
It’s written that the West isn’t a place,
But a state of mind.
Yet something is missing,
Like yesterday’s wine.
It’s the end of an era,
But shed not a tear.
The cowboys are gone,
But the cows are still here.
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Tags: autumn leaves, barbed wire, branding iron, cattle, chuck wagon, cowboy, night herder, painted ladies, poem, Poetry, prairie, rancher, saddle, season, tear, The cowboys, West
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