Twas once in the saddle

I was sitting in the saddle

The red sun began to raise

two hundred head of cattle

peacefully started to graze

the piercing sound of a pistol was ringing in my ear

the only sound that followed was the bellows of a steer

i rallied up the cowboys

we started down the hill

and then all of a sudden it hit me

a different kind of thrill

i shot two vaqueros

one in between the eyes

they fled across the river

you could hear the wounded cry

my face was pale and clammy

my bridle grip was strong

we gathered up the cattle

for those texas days are long

a cowboy on the trail

the dangerous cattle drive

even the toughest cowboys

dont make it back alive

the rapid beat of our horses feet is a cowboys favorite song

the cattle drive is over

im headed for san anton'

Reviews

[Relic]

Those long sentences throw off the meter a bit for no reason that I ca see, but the poem itself is written very well. You captured the real feel of being out on the range. I see the dust and hear the cattle. This is very enjoyable to read. I had my own old west tale but it is too long to post.

Nice writing.