for he is just a cowboy

http://dversepoets.com/author/dversepoets/
Please read the other entries, if you get a chance as these folk are amazing.
This is a 1st edit, will re-do once back home. Not a poem..not really anything- just thought.

Apologies for not getting around to reading from last week, especially those that took time out to read mine and comment. Holiday is over tomorrow (fly back home) so situation will be… almost normal. 🙂
 

 

For DVerse – The Poets Pub

Re-worked from 1st Edit.

Worn out boots kick up the dust
my flanks shiver; bridle held in
weather beaten hands, a reassuring
voice “Woah girl, good girl”
I know the human smile
my leg strikes the soil – a welcome
bridle raised, my head held high
metal bit cold, unforgiving
but there is trust- we have a bond
blanket thrown across my back takes
the chill out of my spine
whilst the glow of oil lanterns
attracts the winged night flyers
saddle placed with stirrup straps
the familiar kind old hands I feel
along my belly; cinch the girth strap
leather boot on metal, swinging
one leg over – that’s when I hear you sigh
“Head up girl” your old voice whispers
I walk on into the night
been sometime since we rode when the
sky was almost black
into the hills I forge, my hooves the
only sound we hear and I feel you on the
saddle to the rhythm of my gait
down to the Old Jones brook – I bend to take
a drink – that’s when it changes- when I
hear you fall
master – cowboy – nuzzling your
brow, smelling your hair
your last breath was doing what you loved
riding me, your old grey mare
so I stand just sniffing you for quite
the longest time, not wishing to forsake
you my cowboy… friend of mine

Shall I write of what I dreamt?

Oh my such a dilemma I face. I wait with baited breath for a new challenge to be posted. Yet last night when I lay in my bed, this went through my head, so I cannot wait for a photo. I write this NOW because I have the need to, because it kept me awake half the night. I write this, because of my compulsion to do so. Now all I have to do is remember the words that ran through my head! Who indeed shall read and comment…. for those that do, I welcome you and I thank you.

Josh walked up to the barn door, though large and heavy, he lifted the wooden latch and slid it open with relative ease. He blinked, his eyes trying to accustomise to the light, that shot it’s way through the opening into the cavernous surrounds before him.

An old rusted plough to his left and on the wooden railing in front of him, two leather collars hung on rusted nails that the Shire horses would have worn heavily around their necks,  as they trudged through barren soil opening the way for seeds to plant.

Out of the corner of his right eye, he thought he saw something move, a shadow, a flash of dark.
He had bought the house and the barn and the acreage, knowing the stories from the village, the old wives tales of the property he had bought, was haunted. It was the 20th Century, witches, ghosts, simply do not exist.

Yet his body shivered, a feeling there was something else in the barn, apart from him.

The door, thankfully allowed enough light for him to adjust, regain composure.

As much as he tried, something troubled him, a presence he couldn’t explain.

The shadow…the dark moved again, his peripheral vision caught it and he quickly looked in the opposite direction.

Curiosity, stupidity…he looked up and to his right, beyond the wooden palings.

Transfixed, body taut and breathing heavy.

He saw it….she?

Dressed in black… a figure.

He took one step forward.

He swallowed hard, he looked upon a face… ashen…distorted.

The barn seemed to close around him.

The figure clad in black, bare footed, hung from the beam in the loft above.

The noose that strangulated her, was taught enough to cause her eyes to bulge, her arms hung limp by her side. Blood droplets, painted the edge of her bottom lip, the colour contrasting against her pale skin.

Her hair matted, the texture of straw, nestled on her shoulders, under the hood of evil.

He stared.

Her eyes opened, she smiled with yellow teeth… her body moved back and forth,  as if on a swing.

The barn door shut, he heard the latch close.

THE MISSY AWARD HAS ARRIVED!!!

INTRODUCING THE MISSY AWARD!!!!!!

As you know I don’t accept Awards anymore, but this one I could not pass up! How cute is this Photo! 🙂

Bestowed upon me from the beautiful Ivonne at http:ivonnemontijo.wordpress.com

The  Missy Award is presented to those bloggers who support and advocate for animals either in the blog as a whole or a blog post.  They can be animal lovers, vegetarian,vegan, rescue workers, doesn’t matter it’s all about the animals.

The Rules are:

1- You must post the Award Picture onto your blog–but who doesn’t love putting award pictures on their blog?!!!
2- Link back to http:ivonnemontijo.wordpress.com
3-And answer two questions.

A- What inspires or motivates you to write?
Feelings that drift through my mind on any given moment of the day (or sadly) the night when sleep does not occur, words are frantically written into my phone under the covers, like a teenager sending messages to her boyfriend. Anything will inspire my desire to write. Songs, words, photos, conversations. It is something, possibly inbred in me and I know not why, but I cherish the gift of words, of imagination of being able to bare my soul on paper,  no matter what the subject. To have a site for my ramblings such as this (WP) is something I also cherish, for this has given me my outlet, to air my thoughts and to share my words.

B- Why do you love animals?
Because they are simply the most beautiful and devoted creatures on this planet. Their love is unconditional. They deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. Cruelty of any nature abhors me. I have loved animals,  particularly dogs and horses ever since I can remember. I shall continue to love and support when I can, those that are need of human help or intervention. We need to eradicate dog-fights, bear-fights, cock-fighting. The thrill for man to watch animals tearing each other apart sickens me. If you wish to visit this Post  http://wp.me/p2Daje-H1  There has to be an End,  for a more detailed explanation of why I feel this way. To our fur-babies – the ones still crying out for help, you will be heard. The ones that have crossed the Rainbow Bridge, mum will see you again one day and to those that you have as part of your family be grateful everyday for the joy that bring you.

4-Nominate other worthy bloggers or just simply accept the award and do #’s 1-3

My nominations (other than those nominated in Ivonne’s Post) are:-

I nominate http://irishkatie.wordpress.com/ – for her love of dogs.
I nominate http://sensuousamberville.wordpress.com/ – for her beautiful photos of animals (puppies!!) in her posts.
I nominate http://wonderlandbytatu.wordpress.com/ – for recently adopting Benny – See her Post – How I trusted a perfect stranger.

5- Oh yes, please let your nominees know you nominated them.

Thank you Ivonne for also recently adopting two puppies , saving them from crossing the Rainbow Bridge  -xxx 🙂

Listen (Part 2) Poetry

Listen to the morning birds with their wake up song

Listen to the footsteps in the house where you belong

Listen to the new borns as they utter their first sounds

Listen to the children’s laughter ringing through playgrounds

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the anger in the voices in a fight

Listen to thunder as it cracks on stormy nights

Listen to the people having conversations nearby

Listen to the whirring fans on ceilings way up high

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the sounds of hooves galloping on the ground

Listen to the lost shelter pups crying to be found

Listen to the man as he whistles his tune

Listen to the clink of your knife and spoon

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the waterfalls that flow from rocks above

Listen to the cooing of the released caged white dove

Listen to the whispers of children out at play

Listen to the elderly and what they have to say

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the waves as they tumble to the shore

Listen to the high heel shoes step across the floor

Listen to the pelting rain upon an iron shed

Listen to the winds blow strong when your warm in bed

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the band you love sing your favourite song

Listen to the keyboard click when your typing all day long

Listen to the crackling of wood burning in the fires

Listen to the breath inhaled and listen when it expires

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to your heart beat strong beneath your chest

Listen to when someone speaks, that their life is in a mess

Listen to the child that says that they feel pain

Listen to the teenager who wants to come home again

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the bubbles in an effervescent drink

Listen to the water drip into the kitchen sink

Listen to the kittens as they softly purr

Listen to the shoes of a flamenco dancer

~~~~~~~~~~~

Listen to the one you love when they have something to say

Listen to the friends you have and laugh with them each day

Listen to the abused animals who haven’t got a voice

Listen to the sadness of others so that one day they may rejoice

Listening… A simple thing we take for granted.. sometimes we hear but do we always listen

My 100th Blog – 18th Century

Courtesy of Google and 123rf.com

I walk upon these cobblestone streets, the soles of my shoes thin & bare, but I do not complain for they protect me from the cold & damp & I step one foot in front of the other

Carriages drawn by horses pass my way, their heads held high exhaling steam from open nostrils with reins held tight, they hold their strength to pass with clacking sound of hooves upon the street

& splash my rustling skirt and petticoat which touch upon muddied brick

Houses either side of me, old & decaying with heavy latched doors that are weathered from the seasons & light from oil lamps glow through windows & fireplaces give warmth to those within

They are the most blessed, for there is laughter in these times

Skivvy my occupation, though the coins I receive are little

I cannot take place in my masters fine home & talk of worldly matters

For he is of upper class & I am but his servant & should be gracious for being so

But I walk the cobbled streets of London & dream of a life where I can speak

My brother works in coal mine, he’s young, 10 of age his face & soul are blackened by his daily work, an infant in my eyes

But he shows no annoyance for doing so & is glad of the penny he receives for his toil

My sister sells her body to men to feed her child so young, I wish her life like mine

It’s dark & cold this night of nights as I step one foot in front of the other

My dress is wet & muddied from dirt off bricks, muddied like my heart & the cold night air chills me to my bone

But I wear the shawl my master gave me & draw it closer for the warmth

My master he wears fine breeches & white stockings with buckled shoes so grand

In my bag a kerchief, that my mother now gone, gave me, it’s white with lace on border

I walk the cobblestones in cold of night & step one foot in front of the other

I dream of another existence where I am free to talk of life & what I wish to be

But I know that I cannot, I can only dream, I am a young woman… there is no future for me

A girl of 15, alone without a family by my side, so I walk these dark and narrow cobbled streets & show no fear of the darkness that surrounds me, the bodies that lay still & silent from starvation

Though I cannot voice my words, I hold my head with pride that yes I am but a skivvy to such a nobleman

Who provides the shelter & roof & a coin to line my threadbare purse, I won’t complain

My life may change one day of that I dream & pray, but for now I walk these cobbled streets & have hope that things will change

I live as the privileged do & I should not find cause to object, I must give praise for the life I live & have a place where I can rest… a home

But for now & for the future, I walk along these cobbled streets, upon the rank and murky ground & I am so very alone