Kendra Tyler

(04/01/1976 / portland, oregon)

Keepers of the Flame a Special Breed


They say the cowboy has passed away
That untamed breed so brave
The old stage have sacked their saddles
Some buried in unmarked graves
The prairie is peaceful and silent
Void of hoof beats and shouts,
And those who tamed the WILD WEST
Their lamps have all gone out.

The old bunkhouse and barn
Nestled ` neath the cotton wood trees
Have vanished as withered grass
A sad, sad thought to me
But the memory lingers still
Of days forever gone
But cowboy's songs and poetry speak
A dialect all its own

It speaks of round-ups and branding times
The trail drives, and stampedes;
Of dust storms, droughts and prairie fires
The making of a breed
And when the cattle are bedded down
A time for grub and rest
The cowboys recite and sing his song
As the sunsets in the West
So lets all rekindle the camp fire
We'll sing cowboy songs and recite

If the wood jingler will jingle the woods
We'll keep the fire burning bright
The old-timers have long been gone
I hear new voices sing and shout
Old Father Time keeps marching on
But the fire will not go out.

Submitted: Wednesday, August 08, 2012

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