Poems by The Old Cowboy
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Old Rebel Early in the mornin as the mist starts to rise I saddle up Old Rebel and we head out for a ride He's growin old but still a bit of fire in his eyes Standin there waitin as I brush his side The old horse and me been down some trails When we were young, lean and bold When I call upon him to run, he never fails Years have worked us both more and more we feel the cold I stirrup into the seat, his withers shiver and shake Muscles tigthin as he waits for the spur His eyes turn to me dark as a mountain lake I rub his neck, pat his head, hair soft as fur No kick is needed Old Rebel knows when to go Out the corral gate past the old bunk house To the far edge of the prairie where the hills start to grow Not to long on the ride we ruffle some grouse Sun startin to climb and warm our old bones Sittin my old friend he strong as a stump When I am ridin Old rebel I'm never alone We don't run as fast or take to the jump Old age had crept on us both so very fast Thinkin of him gone brings a tear, fills me with remorse What a joy if we could ride back to our past Just me and Old Rebel my trusted horse Edwin J. Smith The Old Cowboy Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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