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See the Art Spur introductory page here It's been said that a picture is worth a thousand words...we know many that are worthy of a poem. In Art Spur, we invite poets to let selections of Western art and photography inspire their poetry. Our nineteenth piece offered to "spur" the imagination—as part of the celebration of the National Day of the Cowboy, July 25, 2009—is by popular Tucson photographer Lori Faith Merritt (www.photographybyfaith.com). Poetry submissions were welcome from all, through July 13, 2009. Submissions are now closed. See the selected poems below. Reproduction prohibited without express written permission "Heading Out" © 2009, Lori Faith Merritt, www.photographybyfaith.com The photograph, called "Heading Out," pictures cowboy and poet Georgie Sicking and Minnesota cowboy and rancher Sam Scott (fiancé of poet Diane Tribitt). The photo was taken the morning of February 9, 2009 in Florence, Arizona. photograph by Jack Dunn Lori Faith Merritt is familiar to many through her photography for cowboy poetry and music gatherings. Following is her submitted biography: Lori Faith Merritt specializes in equine  images that transcend the ordinary, in the art of connection. She focuses on documenting western culture as well, including Western music and poetry artists, and has photographed the coming of age ceremonies for the N'dee (Apache) since 1994. Passion is evident in the images that portray how she feels about what she is experiencing rather than simply presenting what the camera sees, resulting in evocative and insightful imagery. Her life has centered on horses for 38 years and her life experiences allow her to communicate with horses and horse people alike, providing an environment of integration vs. isolation. Lori Faith's images have been published in print, websites, and utilized in advertising, Western music and poet artist's promotions, and are enjoyed by private collectors. A "photographers" photographer, Lori Faith Merritt has provided bio photographs for several well known photographers. She has served as official photographer for special events, such as schooling through "A" horse shows, the Western Music Association's Festival and Awards, National Day of the Cowboy events, Festival of the West, and many others. Lori Faith has established herself as a photographer who provides unique memorable images during the event and on privately scheduled side shoots. Based in Tucson, Arizona, she travels extensively to provide customized photography for ranch shoots, barn calls, and portrait sessions, and to gather images for her portfolio.   Her work has been accepted in such juried shows as Art Without Walls, in New York and has been published internationally with clients including Europe's Bit Magazine, National Geographic, Cowboys and Indians, Western Horseman and many additional publications. Her work has inspired painters internationally. She donates much of her time, as well as website work and images and prints, to horse rescues, animal charities, and provides heart sessions to people and animals who touch her heart and whom she feels must be documented. See many images and read more about Lori Faith Merritt at her web site: www.PhotographyByFaith.com Photography By Faith "The Art of Connection" blog: LoriFaithMerritt.com MySpace: www.myspace.com/photographybyfaith   Facebook:  www.facebook.com/photographybyfaith AZStarNet: regulus2.azstarnet.com/profiles/PhotographyByFaith

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Reproduction prohibited without express written permission
"Heading Out"
© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt, www.photographybyfaith.com

Poems

Headin' Out by Diane Tribitt of Minnesota

 Ridin' With Georgie...I wish by Ken Cook of South Dakota
Headin' Out by Janice Gilbertson of California
Heading Out by William Merritt of Arizona
 Headin' Out by Al Mehl of Colorado

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

Diane Tribitt was present when the photograph was taken and her poem was written before the Art Spur was announced. We asked her if we could include it with the other selected poems:

Headin' Out

Throughout her life she'd been condemned
for havin' cowboy dreams
But she fulfilled her destiny,
enduring all extremes

She lived for ropin' cattle, and
she roped 'em with be best
Tied ‘t burrows, cows and mustangs,
surpassing every test

She's thankful God has blessed her with
the opportunity;
for cowboys who had taught her and
a mom who'd set her free

to live the life she dreamed of
with horses, cows and rope
as a lady and a cowboy,
on horizons brimmed with hope

She taught her kids to understand
the only life she knew
and blessed them with the gift of being
"you, and only you"

Each time she passed the reins to them
she made sure she was near,
yet far enough away from them
they wouldn't sense her fear

She has loved some horses dearly
and disliked quite a few
She has lived by cowboy ethics
Honest, loyal, tried and true

Though she is blind, now, she still sees
what some refuse to see
for her soul was borne of nature
and her spirit's proud and free

She was born to be a cowboy
and there ain't any doubt,
When most old hands are headin' in
they'll meet her, headin out

© 2009, Diane Tribitt
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

 

Ridin' With Georgie...I wish

"If wishes were horses,
Beggars surely would ride,"
Words passed by my Grandpa to heed.

But Faith has spawned a wish,
I'm now scheming to have,
Selfish, but a ride that I need.

Just a dream catcher want,
Like a colt with no buck,
Or plenty of grass first of May,

My wish won't go beggin',
Because I hold the boon,
To ridin' with Georgie today.

Years ago Ma and I,
Wished all over them stars,
Shootin' from the sky toward our town.

Just a boy way back then,
But it's happened again,
I'm wishin' on stars that fall down.

Heck I'd give up drinkin',
And Skoal fresh from a can,
Cussin' too if the Big Man's on call.         

Mama made it real clear,
With eyes closed from down here,
That Top Hand up there grants us all.

I'll not hoard copper coins,
To toss into a well,
Childish for a cowboy my age.    

But I'm chuckin' quarters,
One by one at the creek,
Like a reckless man in a rage!
      
I won't drop to my knees,
Close my eyes and risk prayer,                                 
Like I showed each kid in my crew.

'Cause if ridin' with Georgie,
Comes by wish or with prayer,
Then hell Sam.I wish I was you!

© 2009, Ken Cook
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

 

Headin' Out

Friends and fine horses

   On an Arizona morning

      Red desert trails to ride

 

South-bound thunder clouds

   Racing their shadows

      Across the Gila divide

 

The scent of high desert

   The chill on the breeze

      A view down Tucson way

 

Wise and true...cowboy talk

   A language of it's own

      And memories to convey

 

Who could ask for more

   And just what might that be

      On a day that shines so grand?

 

'Tis all a picture to be part of

   Headin' out with Georgie

      Her a'tellin' about "The Making Of A Hand"

 
© 2009, Janice Gilbertson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

 

Heading Out

Mom was not one for Sunday meeting
Or just preferred to stay behind
I was too busy with my friends
So, as a kid, I paid no mind

 

But when I got older I did wonder
If she stayed home to handle chores
Things mom could do while us kids were gone
Not running in and out of doors

 

Time went on now Dad is gone
I have a small ranch of my own
Still, when each Sunday rolls around
I wonder what she does alone

 

Friends know her best the six days left
Go visit almost every day
But on the Sabbath no one calls
Which she prefers or so they say

 

Well, I'm her son so just for fun
I drove home Sunday before dawn
Perhaps a rude surprise but curious
To see what she had going on

 

Not much past five pulling in the drive
I thought she'd meet me at the door
But found her waiting with two horses
In bosal y fiador

 

Tacked and up in no time flat
We rode  a ways before we spoke
How did she know that I would be there?
She chuckled  like she'd played a joke

 

But being kind she read my mind
I felt shy and wet behind the ears
We turned up a trail before she answered
The question burning all these years

 

Turns out what it was all about
Had more to do with open spaces
And trail rides where she found her Lord
Than to pray in the man-made spaces

 

The church is fine for things divine
But she knows without a doubt
When most found God heading into town
She found Him heading out

© 2009, William Merritt
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

 

Headin' Out

It’s been good to fin’lly visit, ma,

I know it’s been a while,

All our troubles never seem to learn

to line up single file.

No, instead they form a tangled web,

as best I can discern;

Wish they’d learn to take a number,

then sit back and wait their turn.

 

Doctor Akers filled me in

on all the news about your health,

And the banker filled me in

about your property and wealth.

Ma, we’ve got all week to talk,

but we should plan ahead, no doubt…

Then I’d prob’bly say come Saturday,

I should be headin’ out.

 

Guess you’ve had enough of chemo,

though you seemed to take it fair,

’Til the radiation took the last     

of energy and hair.

Must have been a tough decision,

just like swimmin’ ’gainst the flow;

I admire your bravery

for tellin’ ol’ Doc Akers, “No.”

 

Morning air’s the only medicine

’pon which we’ve learnt to count,

Even if you have to stand a hill

to lift that leg and mount.

Could be bone pain from the cancer,

or I s’ppose it could be gout…

Come ’bout dawn tomorrow mornin’, Ma,

I should be headin’ out. 

 

Ma, I hope that you’ll forgive me,

but I’ve tried to stay in touch;
Lookin’ back, my calls and letters

don’t amount to all that much.
If I had to do it over, Ma,

I guess it’s hard to say,
But I’d like to think I wouldn’t choose

to live so far away.
 

I know lots of folks been callin’

just to tell you that they care,

And the fam’ly’s findin’ strength

through fellowship in faith and prayer.

I sure wish that I could tell ya

what the afterlife’s about…

Come the last of this good coffee, Ma,

I should be headin’ out.

 

Son, I know my little problems

aren’t stacked neatly on the shelves,

But I’ve got to think some things

will prob’bly take care of themselves,

Just to spend some time with you,

 that’s what this week’s been all about;

Promise me that you won’t worry,

 even though you’re headin’ out.

 

I don’t think of this as dyin’,

I can’t think this is the end.

For a soul out on a journey,

 it’s just ridin’ ’round the bend.

Son, I’ve got no use for cryin’,

 and I’m never one to pout,

I’ve been blessed to walk on this sweet Earth,

and now…

I’m headin’ out.

© 2009, Al Mehl
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

 

© 2009, Lori Faith Merritt
 www.photographybyfaith.com

 

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