Cowboy Poetry

Expecting

Patience is not my strong suit as my wife can attest. We want everything right now, but Mother Nature reminds us that some things just have to take their course, and one of those is a horse's gestation. When we breed a mare, we get excited, but we have to wait a long, long time. This poem is entitled Expecting.

"We live in a society of instant gratification.

Only things I can have right now will satisfy my expectation.

We want instant results.

Patience is a thing of the past.

We just go to the drive-through 'cause we want our food so fast.

But some things just can't be rushed, as a rancher comes to learn.

Nature has its own independent schedule, with everything in turn.

One of those processes, which must simply run its course,

Is the eleven-month period known as gestation of the horse.

There's no way to push fast forward, or hit the gas for acceleration,

To hurry along the mare's full period of gestation.

So I know I must be patient to reach my long-term goal,

as I await the third trimester and the birth of that foal.

We'll feed the mare some extra grain and get her used to the stall,

while we have the foal kit ready to respond to nature's call.

And I'll express a hope while counting the days somehow.

God grant me patience, and let me have it right now.

Happy trails!"

A Guide From Above

I read a true story about the trail drives of old that had to do with the way the Chuckwagon cook would place the Chuckwagon every night on the trail drive. It got me thinking about some inspirational thoughts and the guidance we need from above. This is a serious poem titled A Guide From Above.

In the history of the West and the days of old

from the era of cattle drives, a story is told.

A Chuckwagon accompanied the herd each day,

so the Cowboys could have food along their way,

but wherever it was they made camp for the night,

the old cook was careful to do one thing just right.

He'd look at the night sky from afar

and placed the wagon with the tongue pointing toward the North star.

Then every morning when daylight came,

their northerly direction would be the same.

When they drove those cattle forth,

they knew their direction would be true North.

In modern life, our directions are sometimes unclear

with demands and distractions from life and career.

We have no chuckwagons or cattle drives,

but there's lots of confusion in the things that we strive.

Like the Cowboys of old, let's do this just right

and follow a heavenly guide every morning and night, happy trails.