An Old Cowboy's Time

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Cowboy Poems

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I memory of a decased cowboy

I beheld the man, and shook his old hand
like many times in the past.
Without spoken word, the thought still heard,
these times he knew were his last.

His face ne'er showed a glossy pink glow
but his eyes wanted for more.
I scarce heard him say, "I'll be on my way,
and wait for the wife on a distant shore.

For this much I know, the place where we'll go
is a mansion by God's own strong hand,
A place made for me, I can't wait to see
a beauty there we'll ne'er understand".

Hands no longer rough, he tries to be tough,
his last fence finally mended.
Asking those close, 'bout those he loved most,
making sure things would be tended.

The arms that should ride, hung frail at his side,
faint gestures now arduous chore.
We read from his rhyme, 'bout a happier time
and we always pleaded for more.

His cowpuncher way, never questioned I'd say,
he's a "shore 'nuff", the old adage goes.
Though his time will pass, his memory will last,
his legacy continues to grow.

He spoke for us all, that some might recall,
western folklore and the cowboy way.
Heritage and honesty, hard work and modesty,
he tried living it every single day.

So, don't be too sad, it ain't all that bad,
these old cowboys don't ever die.
Their spirit lives on, in poem, verse or song,
And his pards will pass it on in due time.

Ol' Bob was my friend, seems he's always been.
He's not known to say a word unkind.
So he'll shore not fail to leave a clear trail
He knew some of us weren't too far behind.

In memory of Bob Lewis, a good cowboy poet
and friend to all.
David Kelley,


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