The Crystal Lady

 The Poet's Corner

Thirty Pieces of Silver A Collection of Poems By Joan Estelle High ©2004

" I am just a  old broken down cowboy", he said with a grin.
He was not very tall and his body was thin.
Spine was all twisted, he could hardly stand.
But he was still quite a man, when he shook my hand.
He told us some tales of when he was a young man.
How he sailed across the sea to a place called Japan.
Although he called Texas his real home,
There were years when his restless soul wanted to roam.
So he drove a big rig for many a mile,
but training horses was more of his style
Now his silver spurs are hung on a wall, he won't need them again.
He traded them in for a leather wrapped cane.
Made by a Choctaw Indian friend.
He can't ride the horses that rear and buck,
So he rides around town in a Ford pick-up truck.
But the old cowboy is the last of his line.
Life has beat him up bad, time after time.
He has endured more pain than was his share.
But for 75 years he just " hung in there ".
His grandpappy was a sheriff 
and his mother was called "Clyde"
He once had a wife and he cried when she died.
His time of departure is near at hand.
He will be leaving soon for a far distant land.
His horse will await him and off they will ride.
And he will put his old broken body aside.
His spurs will then be golden, Oh hear how he sings.
As he rides like the wind on a horse that has wings.


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