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These poems (and many more!) appear in PRAIRIE WIND, POEMS & STORIES
LUTHER MORSE
They say they're gone; the cowboys,
They say their day is past.
They say technology is the thing
That's moving this world so fast.
That may be so for city folk,
Who never sat a horse,
Or drove a herd of stubborn steers,
Like old man Luther Morse.
He worked his ranch, the Diamond M,
A spread down in New Mexico,
With no cell phones or e mails
And no fancy clothes for show.
T'was a tough old bird; hard as nails,
Worked long days without complaint,
He was honest and fair and always true,
And had no patience with them that ain't.
Old man Morse was a friend of mine,
He taught me to ride and rope,
He taught me being a cowboy,
Was the best anyone could hope.
I miss his weathered face,
With lines etched so deep,
His sweat stained hat and worn out boots,
And eyes that never seemed to sleep.
I grew to love that crusty old man,
Who treated me like a son,
And the more I tried to please him,
He made me feel like one.
It's been twenty years now since he left,
The ranch has been sold away,
But I've got a parcel of that land,
As a reminder of those good old days.
I'll keep it sacred for what it meant:
Of brandings and roundups and cowboys on horse,
As a legacy to the past and old man Luther Morse.
(published in WESTERN HORSEMAN May 2004)
PIONEER WOMAN
She was a beauty in her simple way,
Facing tomorrow as just another day
Of hard work and chores and kids to raise,
She didn't get much rest; she didn't get much praise.
A pioneer woman whose weathered face,
Showed determination and a simple grace,
In ther own homespun and sensible shoes,
She settled a land and paid her dues.
Tough though she was, her heart was good,
Always ready to help whenever she could.
When weather took her crops and death took her men,
She rolled up her sleeves and started again.
Sometimes her life was shortened by the struggles every day,
And 'round her bed they gathered where softly they heard her pray:
"Lord, keep them safe when I am gone if this be your will,"
She closed her eyes and breathed no more,
A beauty ever still.
From the special section, "Chronicles of the Sisters of the Mystic Night.
Episode I
Sister Dupree's Make Over
or
If you've got it, flaunt it!
The Sisters were gathered at the usual time,
In the back room of Francine's hairdresser shop,
Impatiently waiting for Sue Ellen Dupree,
The one who never looked at a clock.
Suddenly the door was flung open with a bang,
And in waltzed Sue Ellen Dupree,
The Sisters were aghast at the sight,
Of Sue Ellen's exposure for the world to see:
A skimpy top barely covered
What the Wonder Bra made known,
And tight hip huggers didn't come close,
To Sue Ellen's bare navel with its rhinestone.
"My God! Sue Ellen, have you lost your mind?"
Cried Sister Jane in pure shock,
"You look like a floozy in a men's club bar
And that thing in your navel ain't no diamond rock!"
The Sisters were stricken by Sue Ellen's attire,
Which bordered on the obscene,
And expressed their grief at the damage she'd done
To the Sisterhood and all that it means.
"What's wrong with looking as good as you can?"
Said Sue Ellen almost brought to tears,
Sister Jane rolled her eyes and said with a laugh,
"'Cause let's face it, hon, you ain't no Britney Spears!"
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