Welcome To The Bullpen
COLD WESTERN WINDS
Liera Kay London
Many a man has tried to withstand
The cold whipping western white winds,
But each time has failed, the cold has prevailed;
And led the harsh gale to the wins.
The tyrant gusts leave bleak trails untouched;
As the cowboys refuse to leave home,
A blurry caveat in the dust covered street
Warns riders who travel alone.
No high strung men of the western den
Who ride their stallions aloft,
Not one loner or cattle ranch owner
That would dare enter these deadly cold wafts.
For odd things occur when cowboys hitch spur
In the middle of winter nights lewd,
The wind soon opposes and promptly disposes
Of that man who would dare to intrude.
The western winds whisper and bend
Through the bitter dusk of time.
Then creep ‘round the homes of riders unknown,
And whip up a howl and chime.
Then velvet flakes glide, made white with their pride
Misting and blowing away,
Vanishing slow the vapors of snow
Leaving patterns of cold winds array.
A blurry caveat in the dust covered street
Warns riders who travel obtrude,
For odd things occur when cowboys hitch spur
In the middle of winter nights lewd.
A collection of bones from lone riders unknown
Is a caution for those who proceed,
To the ghastly white winds that roam the west end
And the perils of winter that heed.
The feral gusts unsettle the dust,
And fan a cold breath to the west,
Their chilling breeze entomb the trees
And disrupt their deep winter rest.
A blurry caveat in the dust covered street
Warns riders who travel obtrude,
For odd things occur when cowboys hitch spur
In the middle of winter nights lewd.
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