Cowboy Poetry: December is a Good Month to Cowboy

Cowboy poetry by Author Stephen Bly

Stephen Bly (1944-2011)

DECEMBER IS A GOOD MONTH TO COWBOY

Here’s some Christmas cowboy poetry by award-winning western author Stephen Bly.

December is a good month to cowboy,

if you’re fond of the wind, snow and cold.

It ain’t that I don’t like winter, boys,

it’s just tougher when a man grows old.

 

Snow whipped down off the Elkhorns,

drifted the draws and the ridge.

I turned Sage’s rump to the mountain

and plodded our way to the bridge.

 

With my Carhartt yanked up to my ears,

and my Resistol screwed down tight,

We pushed them two old stubborn cows

into the afternoon’s fadin’ daylight.

 

Cowboy poetry cowboy in snow

Headin’ For The Fireplace

The pup was straddlin’ my saddle horn,

his little legs done tuckered out.

We crossed Rock Creek a crunchin’ ice,

the last trip of the season, no doubt.

 

My chaps as stiff as a rawhide tree,

my toes I hadn’t felt since noon.

A big rock fireplace waited up ahead

and I knew we would be there soon.

 

I got a barn as big as a feed store

and a log house I built by hand.

A wood pile to make Dan McGrew smile,

a lovin’ wife with style and with sand.

A Christmas Star

There’s a star hangin’ up on the Beaverslide,

took ever’ extension cord that I had.

You can see that sucker for sixteen miles,

as a symbol it ain’t all that bad.

 

Cowboy poetry Christmas starIt reminds me of the star at Bethlehem,

a great many Decembers ago.

It signaled wise men to the savior’s side,

I doubt if they plodded in snow.

 

I reckon He leads every one of us,

if we would just follow the light,

Surrender our stone cold stubborn hearts,

and quit puttin’ up such a fight.

 

You think about that in December,

when there ain’t no sound buttin’ in.

And you’re ridin’ down off the mountain

and tryin’ to sort out your sin.

Cowboy Poetry Refrain

Ain’t only a baby that we’re celebratin’,

but a Savior who died in our stead.

He gives us a good life here on earth,

and a forever we don’t have to dread.

 

I don’t think those thoughts in the summer,

the ranch is too hectic, you know.

Just late in the evenin’s come winter,

and I’m trailin’ along real slow.

 

My toes is a startin’ to warm up,

ponderin’ the blessin’s I’ve had,

and thankin’ the Lord for His kindness,

askin’forgiveness for makin’ Him sad.

 

December is a good month to cowboy,

takin’ time to remember what is true.

Bringin’ friends to the Lord as I ride home,

askin’ Him to take good care of you.

 

Stephen Bly
cowboy poetry Copyright©2001

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More Stephen Bly Cowboy Poetry 

Stephen Bly Cowboy Poetry When The Cowboys Come To Town by Stephen Bly

When the Cowboys Come to Town Hanging Cowboy Poetry Book or CD

The West Will Truly Be Won COWBOY POETRY

 

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