Rodeo Cowboy's Prayer

Our gracious and heavenly Father, we pause in the midst of this festive occasion, mindful and thoughtful of the guidance that you have given us.

As cowboys, Lord, we don't ask for any special favors, we ask only that you let us compete in this arena, as in lifes arena. We don't ask to never break a barrier, or to draw a round of steer that's hard to throw, or a chute fighting horse, or a bull that is impossible to ride. We only ask that you help us to compete as honest as the horses we ride and in a manner as clean and pure as the wind that blows across this great land of ours.

So when we do make that last ride that is inevitable for us all to make, to that place up there, where the grass is green and lush and stirrup high, and the water runs cool, clear, and deep -

You'll tell us as we ride in that our entry fees have been paid.

These things we ask - Amen.
Unknown "My Couboy" Playful - 17 years, 26 days ago

The Rustler

There are wistful tales from yesteryear,
When a cowboy’s life was filled with cheer,
But, often did full-wages fail
To meet the cost of his Lager Pale…
Then the lustful nights of dance and song—
He’d compensate with a rope that’s long.

If a cowboy pirates a neighbor’s cow—
He’s earned the worst that the laws allow.
He’s squandered life in a search for bliss,
His departure marked by a sweetheart’s kiss.
A jury trial is his last hope…
His dance won’t end on a hang-mans rope.

Now, the very depth of a poet’s soul
Are his words in rhyme and lines that roll,
And the one who steals these lines, by heck,
Should die in a fall, of a broken neck!
He’d never rustle his neighbor’s cow,
But he’ll steal his words, for he knows not how….

© 2006, Bob Schild
Unknown "My Couboy" Playful - 17 years, 26 days ago

Here's to the passing cowboy, the plowman's pioneer;
His home, the boundless mesa, he of any man the peer;
Around his wide sombrero was stretched the rattler's hide,
His bridle sporting conchos, his lasso at his side.
All day he roamed the prairies, at night he, with the stars,
Kept vigil o'er thousands held by neither posts nor bars;
With never a diversion in all the lonesome land,
But cattle, cattle, cattle, and the sun and sage and sand.
....
from James Barton Adams' "A Cowboy Toast"
Unknown "My Couboy" Playful - 17 years, 26 days ago

As one who's been a cowhand since the wildcats learned to spit,
I've made some resolutions for the comin' year, to wit:
Resolved, to ride a shorter day and sleep a longer night;
To never come to breakfast till the sun is shinin' bright;
To draw a top-hands wages when they're due or quit the job
And hunt a wealthy widow or an easy bank to rob.
Resolved, to quit the wagon when the chuck ain't up to snuff,
To feed no more on bullet beans nor chaw on beef that's tough.
Resolved, to straddle nothin' in the line of saddle mount
That ain't plumb easy-gaited, gentle broke, and some account.
....
from S. Omar Barker's "Cowboy's New Year's Resolutions"
Unknown "My Couboy" Playful - 17 years, 26 days ago