Photograph: Merri Melde
If I could
rope the sun
I would lasso
its beams
to use as a
candle
to light your
way home.
The hills are
a lonely passage
between daylight
and dusk
with nothing
but coyotes and cactus
to hear your
hoof beats strike dust.
You are horse
and range
bonded to a
leather saddle,
but I feel
the sigh in your arms
when the
trail calls you from my arms.
You’ve
whispered in my ear more than once
the campfire
is cold warmth
compared to
the heat of our bodies
entwined in a
lover’s dance on satin.
I gave up
long ago trying to play
a macho card
against your cowgirl strength.
You told me
you didn’t need a man. You wanted one.
I’m happy to
be the man you chose.
Hoping for the sound of clinking spurs
to break the
noisy silence, I sit wringing my hands
like a
thirteen year old boy with a crush
waiting for
the star knitted night to bring you back to me.
©Susie
Clevenger 2013
At Real Toads Margaret has challenged us to write cowboy/cowgirl poetry using the beautiful photography of Merri Melde, The Equestrian Vagabond.
Comments
between daylight and dusk
with nothing but coyotes and cactus
to hear your hoof beats strike dust
A realistic beat to cowboy country. Just like those in the movies! Beautiful write Susie!
Hank
@Hank, Thanks!
@Helen, thank you. I wanted the cowgirl's femininity to shine just as powerful as her strength.
@Sreeja, Thanks!
K
like a thirteen year old boy with a crush
waiting for the star knitted night to bring you back to me." The simile is so vivid. :)
@hedgewitch, thank you. I usually write broken heart poems. It was nice to write one that had a happier feel to it.
@Kay, Thanks so much!
@Jinksy, yep. The gal wore the spurs in this tale. :)
@Maggie, thank you
@Thanks Patricia, :)
The new prompt is up =)