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    Views from the Saddle: Vol. 1
    Views from the Saddle: Vol. 1
    Views from the Saddle: Vol. 1
    Ebook121 pages46 minutes

    Views from the Saddle: Vol. 1

    By Ray A. Twist

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    About this ebook

    VIEWS from the SADDLE
    a Texas cowboys life in poetry
    by Ray A. Twist

    This book is a good one for that long wait in the doctors office or any other place where relaxing is important.
    ~ The Kingsville Writers Network.

    An authentic version of a cowboys life. Family, military, farming and ranching, hard times and good times, all aspects of Mother Nature, and being in tune with life. Something for everyone.

    The Poetry Caf of Kingsville, moderator and poet, Natalia Ridener, was introduced to Mr. Ray A. Twists work in 2012. 3000 poems was an incredible collection and she was pleased to read the cowboy poetry many times to her appreciative audiences at The Poetry Caf meetings and at nursing homes, in Kingsville. The poems are good and need to get out there she declared. In 2013 she helped get Views from the Saddle a Texas cowboys life in poetry, published for the first time.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisheriUniverse
    Release dateApr 3, 2013
    ISBN9781475979572
    Views from the Saddle: Vol. 1
    Author

    Ray A. Twist

    Ray A. Twist left poems on the table for his grandchildren to read before he left each morning to work his cattle, on his lease. The poems in his book reveal life in Texas. The poetry of Ray A. Twist also paints us a picture of his cowboy life in Texas for forty years.

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      Book preview

      Views from the Saddle - Ray A. Twist

      GOD’S HOLY WIND!

      Our system is part of an explosion

      And it is still going on.

      We can see light years into the universe

      And you can bet we are not alone.

      The seeds of life came to earth and other planets

      In hunks of ice floating in space.

      God recycles everything,

      They came from another human race.

      There is a beginning and an end to every system

      But, there is no end to the human soul.

      God said, let us make man in our own image.

      He has a way to go to reach His goal.

      We have the ways and means to do space travel.

      In time, we will inhabit worlds afar.

      Some will carry along a Holy Bible

      And God will be there where we are!

      We have one all powerful Father.

      We are in His power no matter where we go.

      There are no straight lines in nature.

      Each of us are different like flakes of snow.

      God loves all that He has created.

      We will end up where He causes His Holy Wind to blow!

      47712.jpg

      GET OUT OF DODGE

      I was killing time out west

      With my thumbs in my vest,

      In a little dusty town.

      When the marshal came by

      And said, Hey, Guy,

      Leave town before the sun goes down.

      I was a little too slow

      And I didn’t go,

      And he threw my bones in jail.

      The very next day

      I started earning my pay

      Delivering saddle bag mail.

      I was paid to run

      And it was no fun,

      Pounding saddles all day.

      So, I’ll go back to Saint Jo

      And marry a girl that I know,

      And I’ll stay there ’til I’m old and gray.

      47682.jpg

      CRAZY HORSE

      He would rope, he would cut,

      He would drag, he would run.

      He was the best ranch horse under the sun.

      He would charge into a river

      Flowing deep and wide.

      He’d take you to safety on the other side.

      He charges through the night

      Knocking fire out of flint.

      He left his deep steel prints wherever he went.

      He would tackle the biggest critter

      Anywhere, anytime.

      If you’d throw a loop on it, he’d stop on a dime.

      He was twelve hundred pounds

      Of muscle and bone.

      He was the last and best horse I ever owned!

      47690.jpg

      FEED THE HORSES!

      Cold wind is singing through the cracks,

      A norther is coming in.

      The old bunk house is talking back

      With sleet upon the tin.

      I will throw a log upon the coals,

      Soon the flames will be red.

      I would go back and snooze a while

      But there’s horses to be fed.

      We will cook a pot of chili

      And hold on to cowboy pride.

      It is boring in the bunkhouse

      But, it’s too damn cold to ride!

      46737.jpg

      GHOST RIDERS

      The embers of the campfires have flickered out.

      The tales of the west have been told.

      The men who rode hard after the stampeding herd

      Are dead and their bones are cold.

      But, if you ride down the canyon

      And climb to the top of the rim,

      You’ll hear the echoing voices

      Of Lefty, Randy, Rusty and Slim.

      You can close your eyes and see their young faces

      As they ride hard to circle the cows.

      Or, you might hear the noise

      Of a hundred cowboys doing everything the law allows.

      You might hear them yelling at the horses

      While they race the length of main street.

      You might see a gun fight over a girl

      And one cowboy dies on his feet.

      You can see them swimming the Brazos

      Pushing the cattle across.

      Or, watch while they bury a buddy

      With no time to grieve his loss.

      You can hear them singing to the cattle

      As they ride slowly around.

      At day break they hoot the steers to their feet,

      Now, they are Red River bound.

      I will always

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