This is the poem used By Roy Rogers at all his riders club meetings
I fail to do a lot of things I ought to do.
But Lord, when trails are steep and passes high,
Help me ride it straight the whole way through.
And when in the falling dusk I get the final call,
I do not care how many flowers they send --
Above all else the happiest trail would be
For You to say to me, "Let's ride, My friend."
Amen
by Clem McSpadden
Our gracious and heavenly Father,
We pause in the midst of this festive occasion,
mindful and thoughtful of the guidance that you have given us.
As cowboys, Lord, we don't ask for any special favors,
we ask only that you let us compete in this arena, as in lifes arena.
We don't ask to never break a barrier, or to draw a round of steer that's hard to throw,
or a chute fighting horse, or a bull that is impossible to ride.
We only ask that you help us to compete as honest as the horses we ride
and in a manner as clean and pure as the wind that blows across this great land of ours.
So when we do make that last ride that is inevitable for us all to make,
to that place up there, where the grass is green and lush and stirrup high,
and the water runs cool, clear, and deep -
You'll tell us as we ride in -- that our entry fees have been paid.
These things we ask -- Amen.
by Badger Clark
Oh, Lord, I've never lived where churches grow.
I love creation better as it stood
That day you finished it so long ago.
And looked upon your work and called it good.
I know that others might find You in the light
That's sifted down through tinted window panes,
And yet I seem to feel You near tonight.
Let me be easy on the man that's down;
Let me be square and generous with all.
I'm careless sometimes, Lord, when I'm in town,
But never let them say I'm mean or small!
Make me as big and open as the plains,
As honest as the hoss between my knees,
Clean as the wind that blows behind the rains,
Free as the hawk that circles down the breeze!
I thank you, Lord, that I am placed so well,
That you made my freedom so complete;
That I'm no slave to whistle, clock, or bell,
Nor weak-eyed prisoner of wall and street.
Just let me live my life as I've begun
And give me work that is open to the sky;
Make me a pardner of the wind and sun,
And I won't ask a life that's soft or high.
Forgive me, Lord, if sometimes I forget.
You know about the reasons that are hid.
You understand the things that gall and fret;
You know me better than my mother did.
Just keep an eye on all that's done and said
And right me, sometimes, when I turn aside,
And guide me on the long, dim trail ahead
That stretches upward toward the Great Divide.
by Tomy Mitchell
I bet I know one thing for sure
Them there bureaucrats in Washington
Would learn to stand by their word
Yes sir, if a cowboy was president
Welfare would mean, "how ya' been
Is your wife and kids doin' alright
Do ya' need help with that fence"
I just know, if a cowboy was president
A few sawmills would open back up
Ranchers would keep them permits
And ever now and then get a new truck
Don't ya' know, if a cowboy was president
Why them ol' boys over seas there
Would think twice about dastardly deeds
Like that there nasty germ warfare
Yep, I'm tellin' ya, if a cowboy was president
You can bet that ol' saddam Hussein
Wouldn't sit with his back to the door
Cause we're tired of his crooked game
I'm thinkin', if a cowboy was president
Y2K would just be some ol' boy's brand
And Monica would be his milk cow
That he raised from a calf by hand
Yes sir, if a cowboy was president
The world might not be a perfect place
But it'd be so darn near close to it
Most everyone would have a smile on his face
See more of Tomy Mitchell's Cowboy Poetry at http://www.gilanet.com/tjramblin
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