Cowboy Poetry
October - November 2008
 The Look
By Bryn Thiessen
It’s the look of sunlight on silver
With the smell of frost in the air
And the sound of a tired horse blowing
That keeps them riding out there
It’s horses jingled by starlight
A herd held up for the cut
The pride of the young cowboys riding
And the warmth of the sun coming up
For the memories are the rhymes
that bring back the times
And the places a cowboy has rode
They seem to hang in the wind then
come back again
To warm him when he grows old
He’ll remember the friendship and laughter
And the feel of a horse working right
The sunsets when day’s work was over
And the sounds round the fire at night
The sound of a good cowboy singing
The words of the poems they said
And the coolness of the night air he’s breathing
As he lay in his old canvas bed
For if memories are the rhymes,
then he wonders of the time
When upwards his soul will roam
He stands there amazed where
the star herds now graze
As he stares ‘round his heavenly home
For the look of sunlight on silver
With the smell of frost in the air
And the sound of a tired horse blowing
Will meet him when he’s riding up there.
|
