Cowboy Poetry – Cowboy Nick By Amy Elizabeth

By February 14, 2011 poetry

First time I got throwed from a young colt’s back,
I blamed that horse instead of the skill I lacked.
My face was still in the dirt when an ol’ cowboy callin’ himself Nick,
Extended his hand an’ said, “Son, a good horse ain’t never made quick.
There’s one thing you ain’t learned that’s an absolute must,
The first rule of any partnership is based on trust.”

I leaned on his wisdom till he died on that ranch,
The ol’ timer was a champ, havin’ my respect, root an’ branch.
He may be gone, but I still hear his voice from somewhere yonders,
Roustin’ correctness an’ givin’ me hell for my thinkin’ that wanders.

That was a long time ago when I stood tall an’ straight,
Just cowboyin’ fer the buckle before it was too late.
I aimed for the top, makin’ it a time or two,
With one regret, cowboy Nick never even knew.

Can’t much explain it, but I have a feelin’…
You see, cowboys are like them fences gone to leanin’.
Once they’re too weak an’ knocked to the ground,
They drift into history where legends are found.

Good horses ain’t made quick is rightly so,
But there’s one thing else every cowboy knows.
There’s a star lit trail when the moon is ridin’ high,
To a cowboy gatherin’ where the fallen never die.

amy elizabeth ©2011
amyichi@yahoo.com
http://rae-welcomefriends.blogspot.com/

Stories of the Old West were an inspirational tool in my early cowboy poetry. Born in Chicago, Illinois, horses were sparse and cowboys few – but if there’s a will there’s a cowboy way. Today, home is on a small ranch in Arizona where horses are plentiful and cowboys are an arm’s length away. I’m currently at work on a Western Romance Novel, and I just completed my first book of Western Folk Poetry. Sometimes you have to grab life by the reins, put weight in the stirrups, sit deep, and chance every mountain no matter how steep.

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