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The Ol' Cowboy

This is the cowboy poetry page.
we hope you enjoy the read.

The Cowboy and The Saddle
Author: James H. Wilson
© Copyright 1996

He sat the half empty tin cup of coffee on the rock
As he used both hands to pull the boot over his sock
He felt the predawn breeze bite the back of his neck
While he watched a sparrow find a worm to peck
For nigh on fifteen years he's made this his home
Herding five thousand head of cattle and being alone
Ain't nothing to do with people, it just ain't his way
The hustle and bustle of the city, ev'ry day
Most want-a-be cowboys, leave his saddle alone
They can only imagine the blisters they're gon'na know
He says a real cowboy's tough as steel
Them kind'a things he don't admit he ever feels
The sound the saddle makes is hard to describe
But it's music to a cowboys ears, out on a ride
The way the horse moves just walkin' along
The cowboy on that saddle, has to start singin' a song
Now this cowboy ain't as pretty as the Marlboro Man
But he can live like a coyote on the desert sand
He's long and lean, and knows ev'ry day's a battle
And knows he wouldn't be him, without his saddle


Dedicated to my father, William R. Wilson
Written By: James H. Wilson
Date: © Copyright, July 16, 1999

He was one ride away, from being the champ
When a mean saddle bronk fell on his leg, an’ took his last chance
He moved away, from the Santa Barbara coast
To his folks desert home, out around Yermo

His wounds had nearly healed when he went lookin’ for gold
Him an’ some others, found ‘Borax’ I’m told
But he couldn’t see himself, runnin’ a mine
So he told the others to split his share of the grind

Not long after, the railroads started to boom
At twenty one, Windy had a job, an’ a new room
Smoke an cinders, belched out of that stack
While the engineer barked "More coal from the rack"

He once told how he could of had great fame
If only he’d agree, to changin’ his name
The ‘Tom Mix’, that everyone knew
Could have been, Ol’ Windy McGrew

Most of us, know of the ‘Great Salt Lake’
That’s one drink of water, nobody takes
But when the railroads built the new line
Ol’ Windy took the first diesel, over that brime

He loved huntin’, bein’ out in the woods
He walked a lot, rode a horse when he could
Like a good cowhand, he rarely missed when he shot
But is was bein’ outside, that really hit the spot

He’d watch the calf ropers, barrel racin’ too
The rodeo clowns, had plenty to do
The bulls came snortin’, an’ lookin’ real mean
But really he shared, the bronk riders dreams

Now he could pick, the winnin’ rodeo hand
Himself bein’, a champion rodeo man
He’d pick the hard ones, comin’ off the truck
An’ he’d yell, "Watch ‘em cowboy, he’s gonna buck"

Some say a storm, always came along
Ev’rytime the young cowboy, came ridin’ back home
So the nickname ‘Windy’, first came from his dad
Real soon the word was out ‘bout the new nickname he had

For those of us, that remember the man
When the wind blows, we know ‘Windy’s’ comin’ again
Though he’s been gone, a little more, than a few years
I still picture ol’ ‘Windy’, when a storm blows `round here

An’ I guess if the Lord, gave him one more chance
Then just about now, Ol’ Windy’s the ‘champ’