Author's Notes: Old men tell of life as they remember, something special about the cowboy dead and alive. Bond between spirit and value. One that built a nation. One man could and does make a difference. Ask Christ for once he too was a man. Not changing the law but ... For what greater gift than to lay down your life, no greater love, do not look back, for maybe you may see things that cause pain. Stop by and share a bench with an old man, better yet a taste of his whiskey... He might tell you a tale. Hell of a Nice fella, burned to the skin with life.
Tell me again friend how did you clear the plains Tell me how the world came to be in the eye of life Tell me a bout he who walked on water and then died Tell me a bout the bad night Tell me a bout you saving his worthless life Tell me heaven and returning Tall in saddle he stood Truth and mercy Branded for good
Hat tipped back in hot sun leg thrown over the saddle streching tired muscles see the cloud of smoke ten or more coming hard
Watched trap sprung never knew what hit them like shooting fish in a barrel one for child another for mother last one for wife Comanche pay
Still in the meadow ranchers live no patch left unturned cows need to eat blankets are rested sleep stars call the same in cast of night stars keep time on life
His life like the tumble weed moves in the seed God given value of a man his word wits taken in wiry stand nature finds rest in the cattle best can be best said stood tall in the saddle
War party whooping up whiskey and paint pride of youth living each fell earth or hell right or wrong damn job coffee strong back weak stars cry me to bothered sleep
Rolled capped fired went right through him dream walker laughed said to late I've been dead a long time I come for you
Found him by the spring half dead better that way no future half white half red mostly dead mistake I said nursed him back
You and I paid in full dream walker took me home city streets held my life kid missed with knife Age slow but I know took out his left leg broke his arm then his neck
Saddle left in plains cabin burned to ground stars still sing to me as whiskey washes mind and time like truth a little foggy just move on old feller police work you know
This is your journal, for your writing. An interactive journal with historical tidbits designed to nurture creativity and self-motivation, features one side for drawings, sketches, or pasting personal pictures, and the other side lined for notes or j
Written like a champ!
Excellent!
peace',
Rich Criso Suarez
love Tinka