Latest poems in Hindi & English on Republic day, India Gantantra Diwas, 26 January

Timber Rider

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25 -Nov-2017 Darrell B. Marsh Old People Poems 0 Comments  643 Views
Timber Rider

Timber Rider (A cowboy tragedy) D.B. Marsh

Timber rider he is, on a path to his end
Can’t beat it this time, now death is his friend
They told him he’s done and should take a hospital bed
But this ole timber rider has a place in his head

A place in the high country where grizzly bear roam
A place in the mountains he often called home
In his mind he can smell it, that crisp mountain air
His thoughts are of hunts, his memories fair

It’s an honest week’s ride to the mountains he knows
He’s got to leave now, to beat the high country snows
So he gathers up his world in an old saddle bag pack
Heads out in the morning on a roan pony named Mack

Now he’s a weathered old rider on his pony in the timber
Gone are the days he was young strong and limber
He’s tired and he’s weary from many a day’s ride
What keeps this man going are the memories inside

A raven haired beauty, his first taste of love
Then two little children a gift from above
The life that they shared as the little ones grew
The changes he’d seen as each summer came new.

The pride that he felt when success came his way
The pain that cut deep when his wife went astray
Those things he recalls with clarity true
Still feeling it all as if the past were still new

Yes he’s a weathered old rider on his pony in the timber
Gone are the days he was young strong and limber
He’s tired and he’s weary from many a day’s ride
What keeps this man going are the memories inside

He loved raising ponies was a horseman the best
With a whisperers talent he’d bring a wild one to rest
Watching with pride as his offspring did learn
With hard work and love a living they’d earn



The home he had built, hand hewn and assembled
Gathering trees from the mountain, in the cold how he’d trembled
A golden log palace with a green metal roof
He knew he could do it and that palace was proof

Man he’s a weathered old rider on his pony in the timber
Gone are the days he was young strong and limber
He’s tired and he’s weary from many a day’s ride
What keeps this man going are the memories inside

Now he’s old and tattered and for reasons unknown
The old timber rider finds himself all alone
In the high country at last he now stops to rest
He thinks of the good times remembering the best

The memories are fading as he unsaddles the roan
A slap in the ass and the pony heads home
He lays in the moss and looks at the sky
All things are now equal in the great maker’s eye

Then he pulls from his saddlebag that old trusty friend
It has served him for years, it will now see his end
Into his hand he takes blue steel and wood
One gentle squeeze
Now it’s all good

He was a weathered old rider on his pony in the timber
Gone are the days he was young strong and limber
He got tired and weary from many a day’s ride
What kept this man going were the memories inside

What kept this man going were the memories inside



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