JOHN DAVID SIMPSON
Robinson, Texas
About John David Simpson
The Cowboy Trail
Sittin on the cowboy trail just a lookin o'er the horizon,
I sat there a watchin and found somethin to focus my eyes on.
The crimson reds, the darker blues, and colors that go unmentioned
all seemed to settle as one as they took to their restin position.
The hawk that was in the air, so black against the sky
made its one last swoop and cried its lonesome huntin cry.
While the fence kept a runnin against the sky's perfect paint
as the reds and yellas and blues were turnin oh so faint.
And just as I thought it was gone one last little color appeared!
One that made this cowboy's eyes swell up with deep true tears.
Beyond the glow of the campfire, against the darkness of the coming night
twilight set upon the sky to rest me til next daylight.
© 2004, John David Simpson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
John told us: "The Cowboy Trail" is one of my favorite poems. It's inspired by the countless number of sunsets I experience on the ranch after a hard days work, a fishing trip, or a hunt. The beauty of a sunset is truly awe inspiring--like so much in a true cowboy's life! And God is so great to let everyone have the chance to enjoy them!
The Coyote Calls
As the coyote calls in its way so distinct
falling into night to fulfill instinct,
daytime ceases in a matter of seconds
and gives way to the night that calls and beckons.
Such a privilege God has granted to me
that I may sit and watch this place be
as God intended for his every creature
to live their lives in such distinct feature.
No animal is alike not one as I speak.
To each his own all animals unique.
The white tailed deer with antlers in tow.
The bobcat's ears back and low.
Scurried and nervous is the covey of quail
that travels the worn sendero trail.
While the white winged dove whistles its way
across the sunburned sky bidding adieu to the day.The Javelina hogs with buried noses in the ground
hurry under barbs where feed corn can be found.
While that old coyote who started it all
continues his song as the night doth fall.© 2004, John David Simpson
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.
About John David Simpson:
I spent my youth growing up in South Texas in the city of McAllen, TX. My family owns a cattle ranch down there in the town of Sullivan City. My Dad, who is bigger than life itself, spent the bulk of his days out there and would let me tag along. I learned about ranching back then and loved everything about his cowboy ways. Today I have a beautiful wife and three little girls of my own in Central Texas. My family now has another ranch just down the road from our Central Texas home, and my wife and kids enjoy being there as much as I do! I thank God for the beautiful things in this country that most people take for granted: family, land and country, and the times and scenes created when one is out on the open range.
I've been writing poems for quite a few years now. All of them are inspired by family, times spent on the ranch, and the wonderful Creator of it all! I like to think of myself as a cowboy, and wonder, hope, and pray that I live up to the honor. My hopes are for people to take my poetry at face value, and if you care to dig a little deeper in thought, those same poems may have a little more meaning than first appears!
What's New | Folks' Poems | Newsletter
Poets retain copyright to their work; obtain a poet's
permission before using a poem in any form.
©
2000-2004
Managing editor: M.
Metegrano
Graphics: Red Braznell
