Page 17 - PoemsNeathTheWesternSky
P. 17
F o r M y D a d
There's a cold wind blowing,
It changes every scene.
Blades of grass no longer flowing,
The hills no longer green.
Trees aglow with color,
Bears searching where to hide.
Signs of winter coming,
As summer steps aside.
Here's to all the cowboys,
Their faces tanned like hide.
They chose this life of hardship
Not for money but for pride.
They’re keepers of the western way,
Caretakers from the heart.
They ride through wind and winter storm
And rest where eagles part.
These riders cut from noble cloth
The measure straight and true.
Their strength lies not in forceful ways
But kindness through and through.
They hold to right and justice,
It guides them through the day.
When trouble brings on darkness
They stand and light the way.
