Painting "The Cowboy" © 2004 by Martyca

The Cowboy



Like the old maverick bull, who is forever doomed to a lonely life in the brush, driven away from the herd; or the outcast old warrior, who now wanders the plains alone seeking that special place to sing his final song of death; the old cowboy seems lost in time. His lot in life seems destined to be a life of all the things that were wanted, but never found; things desired, but never obtained; loving, but never loved in return…


His lot in life was that of a dreamer. From the war deck of that bronco called life he had surveyed a world in rapid change, one in which honesty, integrity, moral values all seemed to be running out. But as the faithful dreamer is always want to do, he continued to seek that deal where a handshake was suffice; the kiss, where hearts were forever bound; love that never changed; and a warm place called home. Some called him a poet; others simply called him insane...


But his lot in life had left the cowboy with his saddlebags chocker-block full of memories. His life had been grand, the dances glorious, and the stolen kisses things of splendor. His had always been the fastest horse, the smartest dog, the prettiest girl; there was no room for doubt, you simply have to listen to his many tales spun around those old campfires…


So shed no tear for the lost cowboy, remember, life comes with neither guarantee nor room for regret…


© 2004-2010 David L. Griffith

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"There is no cure for birth and death save to enjoy the interval."

Text © by PalletMaster's Workshop®.
Graphics by Martyca

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