Thursday, January 30, 2014

Border Signs

Border Signs

The smog that lurks just beyond the sign
The love and the land that we're leavin behind
The border line.
The Elko town casinos
The Elko town bars
The rearview mirror scene of ours.
The horses, the hats, the cowboys and ropes
They stand behind us with bowed heads and our hopes.
Mountains and white lines
Sagebrush and speed limit signs.
With dreary hearts and lingering souls we drift on out of old Elko.
Coffee still on our breathe
And like a traitor to my own heart
I find us driftin farther apart. 
A haunting feelin dances in the air
And it just don't seem quite fair.
So with Nevada in our hearts
And Utah on our minds
We'll be wherever our road finds
Forever haunted by these border signs.

❤ Gussie

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

"The glory of friendship. . ."

"The glory of friendship is not the outstretched hand, Nor the kindly smile nor the joy of companionship; it is the spiritual inspiration that comes to one when they discover that someone else believes in them and is willing to trust them."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson


Wednesday, January 15, 2014

. . . Cowboys and Cattle Land...A Little Old Bunkhouse . . .

Cowboys and cattle land
A little old bunkhouse.
Dust in the summer
Blizzard scar in the winter
Wind through the pines.
A creek littered with laughing children in wet denim
Unraveled braids
Mischievous smiles masking pure hearts.
Horse hair and sweat.
Perfected biscuit recipe
Baked golden like the horse that shares its name.
Wiry strands of creamy mane lace my fingers.
Conchos show the sun to itself.
Broncs have run these corrals
Their hooves have acquainted with the cedar.
Black and white cow dogs trot beside a young boy on a big sorrel.
Cow-calf pairs drift on.
Bulls butt heads, throwing 2000 pounds one way then the next.
83 years of experience, memories and heart sit atop a paint
And grandma cusses in the kitchen.
Fresh air tastes better spiced with freedom
And we bounce in our innocence and happiness.
Silk and slides smile beneath smiles.
Metal rattles at the gravel.
Shiners beneath felt laugh at the world from their black and blue.
Fresh horses shake out in steep country.
God smiles upon the land
The horses
The buckaroos and buckaroogirls.

Luvs, Gussie

Carl and I sorting last summer

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Reminiscing Summertime

Reminiscing Summertime

Like in summertime when skin is tan and lips are red.

When horses are shiny and sleek and silver bits are tarnished and rusty.

When the ground is dusty and soft and we forget our frozen worries.

When wild rags are loosely tied and big concho earrings dangle by our necks.

When tank tops leave flaxen shoulders and rope burned hands to show.

When everything isn't done with frozen fingers and sweat beads roll down our cheeks.

When boots aren't just frozen clods of mud and the trucks don't fight to start.

When bones get broken in the heat and coffee is still a necessity.

Like when bikinis and boots go together.

When white smiles shine beneath straw hats.

I miss the cock-hipped ponies standing at the rail.

When the smell of horse sweat is worn as often as my favorite perfume and when the sun yellows my braided hair.

When blood becomes the new favorite color and tears and sweat run like creek water.

When bright eyes meet each morning and coffee kisses the ponies good day.

Like in summertime when skin is tan and lips are red.