Archive for category poetry

The Chisholm Trail – original Cowboy Poetry by Amanda Ball

The trail

In modern times, it’s a ribbon of concrete and asphalt
big rigs haul cattle to and fro – they make a full exalt
one modern driver conducts a musical, a symphony of shifting gears
they’ve been doing it this way – for nigh onto a hundred years

We might take for granted – this ease of moving beef
load ’em up and move ’em out – it’s a common enough belief
At seventy mile an hour – they roll on down the fray
But what about before that – when there was no ribbon of highway?

In the land before the fences, – Americans did love their beef
But how did they get it from here to there, to have enough to eat?
A man had a vision – cattle north we will drive
We’ll start off down in Texas – in Kansas we will arrive

His name was Jesse Chisholm – After him they named the Trail
Because he charted the path down – through wind and rain and hail
With drovers manning horses, those cattle they did move
Taking beef to the masses – whose lives he did improve

Now we do commemorate – it’s been one hundred and fifty years
we take time to educate – about the history of moving steers
It wasn’t always so easy – after all – beef doesn’t come from the grocery store
No it wasn’t always so easy- it takes a whole lot more

It’s important to remember – the history of moving bovine
so we had a ceremony – scrolls the governors did sign
We ride back down the trail – history to Celebrate
We chart a faithful path – The Trail we Commemorate

It’s important to remember – the way things used to be
Things weren’t always so easy – we take a lot for granted, you see
modern riders will reenact – we are honored to tell the tale
This September, once again, we will ride – The good ole Chisholm Trail

 

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Chisholmtrail150.com

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Happy

DSCF1091 med ir

I never claimed to be perfect.
The flaws…so visible to see…
One among many – so alike…
Unique among others, standing so free

Standing proud – head held high
I am what I am, the one among the we
Maybe tomorrow I’ll be gone – will anyone remember?
But then: a camera comes by…and chooses… me

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Watermill

watermill

Life force giving
Times gone by…
Water falling down
Water rising to the sky…

Days gone passed
Times slip away…
The circle goes around
Life begins another day.

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Ride ’em Cowboy!!!

DSCF0646 med ir

Cowboy of the plains

The mystique of the old west

Gone not forgotten

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NationalPoetryDay

creativity
sometimes off then sometimes on
ebb and flow of life

–by me

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Poetry: Black is the Night

“Black is the Night” published in The XZBT.

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Wow, what an honor to be published in a literary magazine! I love poetry. I’d love to be poet laureate of something! How’s that for a goal? (One more goal on the list of impossible goals I’ve been trying to achieve!) LOL

 

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World Poetry Day

Watching

 

Watching your fingers
Watching your eyes
You connect to the guitar
You evoke its essence

It becomes part of you
an extension of your body
and extension of your hand
a demonstration of your heart

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