Poetry – Old Pickup Truck

I’ve done a blog entry before about Cowboy Poet Russell Petter, the Keywest Kowboy, and he’s another one of his poems.
___________________________________________________________________________________________

I was riding a green colt today, down an old country road,
when suddenly by chance, I saw an old famaliar site.
It was a pretty cowgirl, in an old pick up truck,
with a couple of cow dogs in the back.

The old truck wasn’t special to anyone but me,
and in a short time, I was flooded with memories.
The old truck, it had blew by me so fast,
just as quickly as it had arrived, it was gone, A lead foot on the gas.

I reined the colt to a halt, and by the time I had caught my breath,
there was nothing in my path, but a thought. Nothing except
the distance between us and the passing of time,
as they both grow larger, each passing day.
ain’t it funny how time slips away.

Too many days of being blue, too many nights of sleeping alone,
too many moments of just missing you,
too many memories of an old pick up truck.

Now, strange things can happen on an old country road,
especially when your riding a green colt.
Your mind goes to wandering, your thoughts go to dreaming.
Dreaming of Gold Buckles and Gold wedding rings.
The distance between us, and the passing of time,
they both grow larger each passing day.
ain’t it funny how time slips away.

Too many days of being blue,
too many nights of sleeping alone,
too many times of just missing you,
too many memories, of an old pick up truck.

I spurred the colt and gave him some rein,
picked up a trot to pursue my dreams,
I headed west into the sun,
trying desperately to forget the memories of you
and an old pick up truck.
The distance between us and the passing of time,
they both grow larger each passing day.
ain’t it funny how time slips away.

Too many days of being blue,
too many nights of sleeping alone,
too many times of just missing you.
Too many memories of an old pick up truck.

Funny how an old pick up truck,
can make me miss you so very much.
Funny how much I miss you and long for your touch,
The distance between us and the passing of time,
they both grow larger each passing day.
ain’t it funny how time slips away.