Long ago as I would ride
through mountains and the glen
he would ride beside me
keeping me company,
my old friend.
Through bad times and the good ones
he’d join me on the trail.
He must have sensed my loneliness
cause he’d show up,
just about then.
I’d see him in the distance
and his smile would soon ensue.
Though he never hugged or touched me
that he cared
I always knew.
His words were spoken softly
to each one, I listened well.
About his wild adventures,
such great stories he would tell.
But sadly, as the years went by
I’d see him less and less.
His absence brought me sadness
though I figured he knew best.
Many years had passed on by,
when in my mind he reappeared.
In a time of stress and darkness
his words, they reassured
and I found myself remembering
the lonely girl I used to be
and how much joy and pleasure
his company brought to me.
Then, the thought occurred,
that I was finished being alone.
For now, he had returned…
I must have called him home.
This was about my old friend “the cowboy” in my other poem, I hope you enjoy them all
Just an Old Cowboy ragged and worn
stains on his shirt with jeans thin and torn.
but none of this fooled me
cause he’d tamed these wild hills,
and no man could make it
to his age in these parts.
Without being rugged and unless he was smart.
I entered the cabin and was looking around
when he signaled me over, to come sit down.
He rubbed the fingers of misshapen hands
as rough and gnarled as the lay of the land.
He gazed out the window and started to speak
as he started to going back in time.
He spoke of his horses and then of his wife
reminiscing bout good times he’d had.
He told of their hardship, trouble and strife
that was all a part of the Cowboy life.
Then he spoke of his family
who’d brought him such joy
his beautiful daughters, the birth of their boy.
His eyes teared up and he turned away
saying; ’Loosing my wife,
took the best part of me, that day.’
Well I lost my Old Cowboy in his 86th year.
I still have his picture, and even now I can hear
his gravely voice, see those twinkling eyes.
I still visit his mountain,
cause that’s where he lies. Hansi Riley
One night I awoke, to my mind spinning with memories and stories of long ago. I tried going back to sleep, but sleep wouldn’t be possible until this was down on paper. This night opened the door to the past and my old cowboy was reborn.
So let’s go back a some years… I’ve always been a bit of a loner, home for me was a pretty lonely place, one to escape from, when I could. My horse and dog were my best friends and when not at school, I was out riding my horse, his name was Diablo. He was an adopted wild mustang, who was supposed to be trained, but was only green broke when I got him. We grew up together and had the most wonderful bond, he was my world. We spent many years exploring the mountains, hills and valleys near my house. Looking back, I can see how special it all really was. I loved the raw beauty of the land, and sometimes we’d just rest by a stream listening to the music created by the water dancing over rocks, shutting out the rest of the world. We had so many special moments together for so many years. There actually was another side to spending so much time in the mountains alone. I found myself in more than just a few dangerous situations and was very blessed and lucky to get out of them unscathed. It made me realize how alone and far from help we really were in an emergency situation, (and no, we couldn’t just call someone, cell phones hadn’t been invented yet). Anyways, I think all those experiences along with the loneliness helped fuel my *Walter Mitty-ish imagination and was the genesis of my imaginary friend, he became a protector and riding companion of sorts. Of course he offered no protection in a real situation, but tell that to the imagination… So ‘Just an Old Cowboy” is in poem form and the first of my stories about some of our adventures.
I hope you enjoy them and have great and wondrous adventures!
I don’t have many pictures of my horse and I together, so I posted this video with a very small part I had in a movie, that I rode my horse in, I would be a terrible actress, I was pretty pathetic, Oh well. (= It’s filmed at the bottom of the hills, below the mountains we would ride in. To see the film called ‘Marijuana 1968’ go to Marijuana 1968 and scroll to reel 27:43
I wouldn’t be surprised it it’s #1 on ”Rotten Tomatoes’, Sony Bono narrated and I think he might have been stoned, hehe
* The Secret Life of Walter Mitty by James Thurber https://youtu.be/KUQO1O9__d4 Walter Mitty had his own secret world, created by am extreme imagination. I guess mine wasn’t that bad, compared to his.