|2011-07-25 - A Cowboy Poem Inspired by the Drovers Hut
Blog 8 A Cowboy Poem inspired by the Drovers Hut
It’s a frozen night 3 C’s below,
But to the cold my mind ponders no.
I sit here by the fire in the Drovers Hut,
With the original fire place, board walls rough cut.
I ponder lives of men fare greater than I,
Who worked to tame a land so rough and rye.
If this stone could talk what stories it could tell,
Of love and romance, of hate and hell.
Of men that worked hard from sun up to sun down,
Of men who by the sun turned caulis and brown.
Men who appeared for only a grain of time,
But how does one compare that generation to mine.
Don’t get me wrong, we are different alright,
I’m listening to Mumford and checking Facebook tonight.
But I ask again how does one evaluate
One generation to another or a mate to mate.
Perhaps its foolish perhaps you don’t care.
Perhaps my view is a little rare.
But I think when I ponder, “who gives a crap”
What matter really matters in life rhyme and rap.
There will be a Judge I believe to examine the scale
Simply to imagine that divine day spins me pale.
What if the sum of life was how one brought light,
Reflecting from the Son who is the brightest of bright.
Then I would surely fail, for a good mirror I am not,
But what if someone else for me weight to the scale brought.
The Man of all men on his cross did bear you see,
And created a measure based on He.
No it won’t be the words of the mouth nor the work of the hand,
But it will be the heart with the grace of the Spirit’s brand.