Riding And Roping


Riding and roping, dreaming and hoping,
hoping your heart will be mine,
I ride in the canyons, the valleys and glens,
dreaming about you and where you have been,
some day I might find you, while your looking too,
then I can tell you, my heart is so true,
the cattle are lowing, like they understand,
that I am searching for you, cause I want your hand,
the branding is over, the fires cool down,
only, the cold ashes, will ever be found,
the mavericks are matched with their mothers again,
to roam in the pastures, till round up begins,
while I keep on riding all summer long,
working the cattle and singing my song,
about the lady, that I'm searching for,
the one that I'll love, the one I'll adore.
roundup has started, and I'm still alone,
still looking for the one I want for my own,
the brood cows are bunched and penned to the side,
while we sort the rest, by the brands on their hide,
some are the neighbors, some are late born,
they'll be on the trail, by early morn,
the trail drive is short, just too the next town,
that is where the rail head is sure to be found,
the dust will be choking, and in our eyes,
cowhands all riding, they want no surprise,
we drove them all day and into the night,
so they would bed down, not thinking of flight,
then by the fire we have our grub,
our coffee is gone and smokes down to a nub,
then into our blankets for a few hours sleep,
the first rays of daylight, into the darkness do creep,
the cookie calls out, 'come get it',
coffee's like iodine and breakfast is grits,
just at daybreak we hit the trail,
cattle are tired and slow as a snail,
slowly the town appears, about 5 miles away,
we'll probably get there, sometime today,
the buyers come out to look at the herd,
the money they offer is mighty absurd,
we get them to bidding right there on the hoof,
soon the prices are right through the roof,
the sale is made, out there on the grass,
I thought this season would never pass,
back to the ranch and then into town,
people are gathered from miles around,
I keep my eyes open, looking for you,
looking for my lady, who will always be true,
then I spy you, there, standing alone,
the look in your eye is the same as my own,
I walked up to you, and smiled as I said,
'my angel appears, Hope I'm not dead',
the smile on your lips tells me what I want to know,
side by side through life, we will go.

written by Harry Bryant
7/6/04 1: 43: 04 AM �
all rights reserved

by Harry Bryant

Comments (1)

I like cowgirls too! Nice write!