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Cowboy Poetry
THE GHOST
Robert C. Atkin
Up on the ridge on a cold winter morn
Cowboys were herdin' some strays
When they spied a cayuse out on the lose
He looked like he'd seen better days
A roman curved snout 'n' ribs stickin' out
All spavined 'n' cow-hocked too
He was kinda red-roany 'n' this slow movin' pony
Seemed undaunted as cattle 'n' cowboys passed through
The cowboys hauled up 'n' reconnoitered a bit
Decided they'd better give chase
This broken down nag would be easy to bag
They'd take him back home to the place
They tightened up leather rode out together
It would take a few minutes at most
But not realizin' this horse they were prizin'
Was the mustang renowned as “The Ghost”
They circled around with ropes at the ready
Waitin' to ride in and toss
Six of the best out here in the west
Would throw and catch up that old hoss
Slim 'n' Jimmy threw, Billy did too
As did Mike 'n' Maynard 'n' Mack
To their despair lariats grabbed air
Mockingly; reposed in the slack
They looked at each other; shook their heads
In unison they uttered a groan
Nary a one had got the job done
Missed every loop they'd thrown
A “ whinny” from behind brought the roan back to mind
Appearing as if from thin air
With a flip of his tail; headed off down the trail
“The Ghost” was issuing a dare
They spurred up their mounts took off in a flash
But the old roan stayed a few lengths ahead
With one final hope Mack slung his rope
It gracefully looped “The ghost's” head
Ghost spun quickly around, stood a firm ground
Then reared up with fire in his stare
They were in awe not believing what they saw
Wild horses appeared from nowhere
They sat all huddled together
Circled by this mystical carousel
Was it real or was it imagined ?
Were the hoof beats from heaven or hell ?
The cool winds blow; cattle start to low
Hoar frost coats all in its shroud
Snow shimmers 'n' shines 'midst the emerald of pines
Horse whispers resound long and loud
With heads hung low they battled the snow
As a norther set in hard and fast
They must choose a course; forget that roan horse
Or this journey just may be their last
But try as they might they were losin' the fight
'Lost”; on their own familiar range
With the end drawin' near to them did appear
The horse known as “The Ghost of the Plains “
This elusive steed took up the lead
The cowboys fell in close behind
Survival a must it was back home or bust
Or was this weather playin' tricks on their mind
Not a word was spoke and from the norther they broke
Finally; Slim offered up this toast
Thankin' the Lord for this gift of reward
And for this angel horse called “The Ghost”
This story they tell and a lesson learned well
At least there's six that have no doubt
A lesson of love and a hand from above
Will be there to help wandering souls out
And we know when cowboys reach heaven
They'll be welcomed to the other side
You bet, they'll have wings to fly with
But they'll also have a good horse to ride.
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