The Rider
The appalachian mountain, that stood high,
the sun lit, the pale hued, wild west sky.
The horse stopped, thirsty for a drink,
The rider, on the horse, to catch a wink.
Cowboy, he was, tall and strong,
adorned with tales of valour and wrong.
Herding cattle across distances that lay long,
with a whistle, a yell or a loud song.
waging battles along the way,
keeping herds from going astray,
to guard them from tribes, who held sway,
keeping danger and peril, all at bay.
Guns and lawlessness, abounded the land
understand, he must, a town, not planned.
Watchful as ever, at every step
for the traitor, the robber and the misstep.
He alighted, beside his horse,
having travelled through forests, meadows and prairies across.
His horse, needing feed and drink,
glanced at him, with a weary wink.
This was a minetown, he realized,
brawly and wild, not surprised.
At a distance, stood a tall tavern,
old and noisy, he could discern.
Rowdy gunmen, roamed the street,
girls and peddlers, ready to greet,
a cowboy’s paradise, they would say,
a watering hole, to end the day.
-
Author:
peet (
Offline) - Published: February 7th, 2024 17:51
- Category: Short story
- Views: 15
Offline)
Comments5
Fantastic imagery.
Thank you.
The flavor of the old west. Born and raised in the west it has appeal to me. I have ridden horses there and lived in a mining town. Nicley written with rhyme it was a pleasure to read
Thanks a ton for those words of encouragement. I am a big fan of the old west.
Wow .. or should that be woah .. so fast n furious I'm surprised I can still walk once I finally got off ..
👏 👏 clapping!
An awesomazing
Poem and
cowboy story indeed!! 🤠
Great rhyme and flow
and a treat to read!! 👍
Best regards ✌️ peace. Thad
Thank you buddy.
A picture of the old west painted in images and romatic views nicely done
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