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I thought I might share another poem with you all.
At Home With The Old Cowboy
The fire snapped and crackled in the big stone fireplace
the warm soft glow highlighted the old cowboy's face.
He looked at peace sitting there,
though all alone in the old worn leather chair.
His old comfortable boots sitting off to the side,
they , like the old cowboy showing the wear of a long lonely ride.
His face and hands, like his clothes were dusty and wrinkled with age,
his thinning hair and overgrown brows were the color of winter sage.
The run down house had become empty and bare,
it like the old cowboy, suffered from the lack of a woman's care.
It had become to be some what unsound.
a board here, a shingle there that needed nailed down.
What needed to be done seemed obvious to some,
but for the old cowboy the want or desire just would not come.
There was a time when it was not like this,
a time when he and his sweet young bride lived in bliss.
Some fifty some odd years had came and went,
and before they knew it, their time had been spent.
Where had it all gone, he never knew,
but my oh my how the time had flew.
As he sat there in the darkness and gloom,
the fire made strange shadows dance across the room.
He sat alone on this cold winter night,
with only the fire to bring him comfort,
twas indeed a lonely sight.
On this blustry night, in this desolate place,
for the first time in a long time peace was on the old cowboy,s face.
His hands clutched a portrait of a beautiful young miss,
it was the only thing that brought comfort on a night such as this.
Her curly hair was long and auburn brown,
her beautiful long dress nearly touched the ground.
The faded picture was worn with age and wear,
but it was where it belonged with the old cowboy sitting there.
At last, peace and comfort with her by his side,
the old cowboy went home to be with his sweet young bride.
Edited by - old cowboy on 09/14/2023 15:28:06
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