Titles
starting with letter "A"
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A COWBOY IS HIS NAME
By
Tomcat0183
There's a
hundred year's of history,
and a hundred fur that
all gathered in the thinkin
going on beneath his hat.
The cold flame burns within him
till his skin's as cold as ice,
and all dues he paid to get here
are worth every sacrifice.
All the miles spent sleepy drivin,
all the money down the drain,
all the if i's and nearly's
all the bandages and pain.
It's gut's and love and glory
one mortals chance at fame,
his legacy is rodeo
A Cowboy is his name.
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A COWBOY'S FRIEND
by Marty Buchanan
MLBEXAS
OLE SKY IS BIG AND SKY WAS FAST
AND I KNOW FOREVER CANNOT LAST
HE WORE #2 SHOES
ROPIN LEFT AND ROPIN RIGHT
AND IN HIS HEART HE COULD NEVER LOOSE
SKY IS A WINNER
MANY PEOPLE SAY
AND NEVER MISSED DINNER
AT LEAST UP TO TODAY
MAYBE TOMMORROW HE'LL STILL BE THERE
OLE SKY IS OLD
AND I REALLY CARE
YOU SEE , I'M 29 AND SKY IS 24
WE'VE BEEN TOGETHER
ALL THE TIME BEFORE
I REMEMBER HIS SCRAPES AND ALL OF HIS SCRATCHES
AND NOT TO FORGET THEM MENTAL MATCHES
MY HORSE, HE'S A FIGHTER
I LIKE TO RIDE HIM
IN FULL COWBOY ATTIRE
HE DESERVES IT LIKE NO OTHER
IN MY HEART
HE'S THERE TO DISCOVER.
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"A COWBOY LOST"
By Robert Smith (Smitty)
(Lane Legend)
A cowboy lost, tryin' to pay the cost
Of a heart broken once again
So down on his luck, can't pass the buck
The only relief kind words of a friend
A cowboy dyin' inside, hangin' on for the ride
The pain within him takin' it's toll
For a while it was nice, now he's payin' the price
For givin' that angel his heart 'n soul
Tryin' to make a new start, but without his heart
That cowboy don't know where to begin
It's givin' him a fit, though he'll never quit
He'll cowboy up right through to the end
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A
COWBOYS TOUGHEST RIDE
By
Steve (Mouse) Brophy
Bullmantn1
THERES A PLACE IN A COWBOY
MOST PEOPLE DON'T KNOW.
HE HIDES IT DEEP INSIDE.
AND NEVER LET'S IT SHOW.
HE HIDES IT WITH A SMILE,
OR MAYBE A BEER.
YOU'LL SEE HIM ACT TOUGH
AND NEVER SHED A TEAR.
HE'LL LAUGH AND TELL JOKES.
AND HE'LL HANG OUT WITH HIS FRIENDS.
WHILE ASKING TO HIMSELF "WILL I EVER TRY AGAIN?"
FRIENDS WILL TRY TO FIGURE IT OUT,
CAUSE HE JUST DON'T ACT THE SAME.
THEY WILL ALWAYS BE ABLE TO TELL
WHEN A COWBOY'S IN REAL PAIN.
WHEN SHE WALKS INTO THE BAR
HE'LL SWALLOW ALL HIS PRIDE.
BUT DEEP DOWN IN HIS HEART HE KNOWS
IT'S A COWBOYS TOUGHEST RIDE.
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A COWGIRL'S RODEO LESSON
by Nicki Miller
WC957
(co 1999 Nicki Miller)
There comes a time in every young Cowgirl's life,
When she gets her first horse.
A magnificent animal,
tall, sleek, and fast.
She trains for weeks,
And possibly months,
For her first night to prove her worth.
She's seventh to run,
The second to last one.
As her stomach clenches
She steadies her horse
Rider one knocked a barrel,
But two made good time,
Three was better,
And four,
Not half bad,
Then five and six did pretty good.
Now it's her turn,
She thinks she'll faint,
But her mount is ready,
And charges the gate.
The buzzer sounds,
And off they go,
Competing in their first Rodeo.
Her mare takes the first turn,
She knows what to do,
The second is better,
The third,
Almost through
Now they race for they finish,
Gaining speed all the way
They cross the line
and listen for their time.
"15.44, a new time to beat!"
But rider eight was ready,
and there to compete.
She flies around the barrels,
and heads for the wire,
But her horse took a misstep,
And never did finish.
He gave it his all,
As his rider sits and cries,
She leans over and kisses him good-bye
Slowly the announcer calls out the winners name
"........... with a 15.44"
But the girl knows who won
And enters the arena,
carrying her trophy,
It's a real beauty,
Shiny and gold,
Glistens in the light
But there's a girl crying,
Who should've gotten gold.
She hands her the trophy,
And apologizes for her horse.
On this cowgirl's first ride,
she did very good.
But nothing felt better than giving up that gold.
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A FIRE INSIDE
by Marty Buchanan
MLBEXAS
SITTIN BACK IN THE PATCHES
HE'S FULL OF LIFE
LIKE THOSE BLUE TIPPED MATCHES
A COWBOY THAT WAS IN THE MAKIN
HE'S READY TO EXPLODE
AND THE RODEO IS FOR HIS TAKIN
THE MONEY AND THE TIME
THEY'RE NOT ON HIS SIDE
BUT, THE WILL AND SKILL ARE IN LINE
WATCHIN WITH ALL THE TREMORS
THERES NO RESPECT
FOR THE DREAMERS
OUT OF THE CHUTE EVERY HOUR
IT'S ON HIS MIND
GIVIN' MORE POWER
SMELLIN THE RESIN EVERYDAY
MAKIN IT BURN
AND BURN IT MAY
UNTIL THE FIRE IS COMPLETE AND GONE
HE'LL NEVER REST
BECAUSE HE'S IN THE ZONE
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A NIGHT OF FAME
By Barbiewb16
Some call it a sport others a game,
either way it's all the same
You either win all or at least walk away proud,
of the job you did in front of the crowd
The sport is rodeo like the wild days,
we've carried the tradition in so many ways
Cowboys and cowgirls, doing what we love,
for all of this we thank the good lord above
We all tip our hats for the national anthem,
we all bow our heads as the prayer is said
Even if we hit that barrel, get bucked off or miss our calf,
For us it's no big loss we still have next week,
We still got to ride, and I gaurantee we still have our pride,
Cause cowboy, and cowgirl, is our name,
and Rodeo is our game.
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A
RODEO DAY
by
Miranda Weber
(HrdAzzRblRdeoCgl)
As you walk through the gates
you sense the excitment in the crowd.
You walk along to find a seat,
hoping to get into the beat.
You rise for the Anthem,
and take yer hat off slowly.
The horse is a runnin, flyin' Old Glory.
The show begins with the openin' of a gate,
The rider flys out and begins his fate.
8 seconds to the clock is all it takes.
He jumps off and wavs his hat,
smiles a smile and walks away.
A check, the glory, the fortune, the fame-
It's all a game, and Rodeo is it's name.
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A TRIBUTE TO MY DAD
By Bob Morrison
(BM2181)
My Dad is the right man for the part
This I say straight from the heart
My dad is no common man,
for he is who guided us with wisdom and caring
Not simply by command
In the days of our youth and even today is still true,
if ever in need he will be there for you.
As I grew older and I could walk with him in stride,
I felt proud!
For once I had to run just to stay by his side.
He is tough and strong with a good shoulde to lean on
Yet still he can be loving, gentle, and compassionate.
In this life he has chossen to lead...
Some consider him a dying breed.
There are cowboys and cowmen,
and sometimes the difference is thin.
The same holds true for his world,
That being the world of a horseman.
My Dad is a horseman not in a sense
that he is good with a rope,
But in that he can look at a yearling
and see potenial and hope.
My Dad prefers horse that are big and stout,
But has a weakness for grays-- there's no doubt.
Through his eyes great visions he sees
proof is in the money he spends on entry fees.
The dollars and cents he has paid down the line
for the satisfaction of owning a good horse suites him fine.
Of all the things has taught and done for me.
I am most proud a "horseman" like him
I turned out to be.
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AN OLE BULLRIDER RECALLS
Craig Barnett
REDROCK XX
As I reflect on years gone by,
When the bones were young and muscles spry,
I get that ole feelin of the adrenalin flowin,
the desire to make the "short go" growin.
My buds are all round me with words of advice,
" Watch out ! When he clears he'll spin left twice.
" He drops hard and pulls your head way down,
and puts a " love tap " on that Stetson crown.
I can smell the rosin as the ropes are made ready,
muscles are stretched and nerves made steady.
There's not much talk, mainly cowboy pride,
as each mind is focused on that eight second ride.
I still hear the fading of the arena's fans and noise
as I nod that I'm ready and say " Let's go boys !"
Bellyroll and twistin, I take him stride for stride,
only now its a memory and no judges to decide.
Now i do miss those years, I hit hard and sometimes hurt,
and probably ate several pounds of ole arena dirt.
In the mornins now I still stretch with little talk,
but now it's the kind so my legs will "walk".
Don't take me wrong cause I loved being in it,
and would do it again in a mere split minute.
All I need now is to close my eyes to recall,
and also thank God I was part of it all.
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AN OLD STORYTELLER'S PRAYER
By Bob Morrison
(BM2181)
When winter comes, and the grass is no longer green,
there is ice forming on the edge of the running stream.
As we lift in a toast our drink,
We sometimes need to stop and think,
Of all the wonderous stories that they have been told,
Now to be passed on to the young by those who are growing old.
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