Tears On The WindA Poem by Cherrie Palmer
Born of leather, bathed in dust, he just is,
soul without age or end,
a nod for hello and in silence he just goes.
His life is declared upon his face and his
heart in tuned to face life’s race.
The smell of earth is familiar and good.
It is his, Old Spice, as he watches his herd.
It is a long and dusty ride that makes
for a long and lonely night.
It is said that a cowboy cannot cry. I believe that to be true.
But when would he have the time with so much living to do?
Now that same rich soil, he treads upon longs for seed to sprout,
from gentle springtime rains.
Just as God’s good rain releases said seed.
Those rains anoint his path, those same rains,
refresh both soil and soul.
It is Heaven's tears measured out with grace
that spare the cowboy's soul.
They make ready his way and
hide his pain with neither a goodbye or hello.
© 2023 Cherrie PalmerAuthor's Note
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5 Reviews Added on October 9, 2012 Last Updated on September 27, 2023 Tags: cowboy Previous Versions AuthorCherrie PalmerSpringfield , MOAboutI am a published poet and love poetry. After a lifetime of country living, I'm making a move back to town. I find my surroundings a great inspiration to me. I also have two books on Amazon Kindle: .. more..Writing
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