Buckaroo Heaven By P.W. Conway From: Buckaroo Poetry, Cowboy Poems For Young and Old When I was just a little sprout On my Daddy’s ranch back home, There were days when I would saddle up And take off on my own. I had this little pony, Patches was his name. He and I would cowboy, Until the winter rains. We’d head on down the road apiece And take a left at Johnson’s Bend, Then lope across the meadow, Until we found the trail again. Through the tree line and up the hill Until we reached the very top. There stood a run down cabin And right there’s where we’d stop. Up atop of that ol’ mountain Were some cow pens made of wood And a pile of rotting lumber, Where a little barn once stood. There was this old time cowboy, That’s what people said. His name was Mr. Wheeler, But most folks called ol’ Ned. His beard was gray like campfire smoke And his eyes were dark like coal. He looked like he’d been through hard times, But he had a gentle soul. He had a few ol’ scrawny cows, They just wandered here and there. And just like that ol’ cowboy, They didn’t seem to have a care. When ever me and Patches Came a riding up the hill, There he’d be a horse back, Like a statue he was still. I’d pull up right beside him And he’d say howdy buckaroo, I’d doff my hat and smile And I’d say howdy too. He’d tell me of the old days, Out there on the trails, When there were such things as cowboys, Driv’n herds up to the rails. Talk’n of the hardships, The good times and the bad. Sometimes he’d be smil’n And sometimes he’d be sad. Then he’d just stop talk’n And stare off into space. I could see it in his eyes, He was in another time and place. Whatever are you think’n of? I finally asked ol’ Ned. He looked at me and smiled And this is what he said. There’s a trailhead up beyond the clouds, A trail I’m gonna blaze, A trail that leads to heaven, One of these fine days. There’ll come a time when the days too hot, Or the nights get to dern cold And I’ll saddle up and ride that trail, I hear it’s paved with gold. The longhorns, they’ll be a graz’n And it will be spring time every day, With the sun a shining up above And the smell of fresh cut hay. There’ll be knee high grassy meadows And a sing’n mountain stream. It’s called buckaroo heaven, sure enough And it’s a cowboy’s dream. Do you believe in heaven, son? I said, you bet I do. But I’m not sure I picture it Exactly like you do. He said, it’s all about believing In the things that we can’t see. Like springtime when it’s snowin’, Or that seed that becomes the tree. Well, I grew up and left the ranch And struck out on my own. Got myself a city job, Far from my boyhood home. I went back home to see the folks And they said ol’ Ned had died. So I saddled up a ranch horse And went for one last ride. I headed down the road apiece, Until I got to Johnson’s Bend, Through the meadow and up the hill, It was like I was a kid again. I rode hell bent for leather, Till I reached the top of that ol’ hill. Then just sat there kind of quiet, I can hear the silence still. The cabin, it was all run down And the brush was over grown. It seemed like all the life was gone And I was out there on my own. Then I saw a deer break from the trees And a hawk fly over head. Then look’n up at heaven, I doffed my hat towards ol’ Ned. Hello, old friend, I whispered As I began to smile. I just came up to say hello And visit for awhile. It’s me, the little buckaroo And I know it’s been some time, I’m grown up now and on my own And yes, I’m doing fine. I really miss your stories Of the old days way back when, Of dusty trails and campfires And the cattle drives, old friend. Now I tell my own kids, Of a cowboy I used to know. Who could drive a herd of longhorns Through summer heat or winter snow. A man who worked hard every day And never once complained. He’d just saddle up and do his job And took life as it came. A man who taught me the little things, That it takes to be a man, Like reaching out to those less blessed And extend’n a help’n hand. And I hope that day when my time comes, I’ll ride that trail you rode. The one that leads to heaven, The one that’s paved with gold. We’ll both be up there horseback And I’ll listen once again To the stories of a time gone by, Just me and my ol’ friend.
Posted on: Sun, 25 Aug 2013 18:17:31 +0000
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