Been awhile since I posted a poem here. Here's my Christmas 2013 poem: “Good and Ready” The old rancher stood on his front porch and looked out across the pasture to the mountains beyond his land. He wondered how much time he had left ‘fore the Lord would call him home and what that’d be like for a simple, cowboyin’ man. He thought to himself,” I wonder if there’s fences to build or cows to tend to or any green grass at all… ‘cause that’s all I know’d since I was a button and no more than a couple a feet tall. “And it would seem such a shame to never have rain or to watch the clouds roll in from the southwest. But, I guess that ain’t for me to say and I know I can’t stay, so I’ll just trust the Lord with the rest. Now, he read the book of Revelations and much to his elation, he read where the Lord was comin’ back for us on a horse. So, he rubbed his scratchy chin and started to grin and thought out loud, “Well that makes a lotta sense, of course. ‘Cause there’s no nobler beast God put on this earth than that four legged runnin’ machine. That blows smoke from its nostrils on a cool, misty morning and drinks from the clear mountain springs.” “I wonder if He’ll let me saddle ‘em up or maybe round pen ‘em for a spell ‘fore he rides. Or maybe…just maybe…He’s got another saddle pony I could "borrie" and take a spot right there by His side!” “Now, that’d shore be heaven to me” he thought. “Ridin’ across the blue sky. And all I gotta do to have all that fun is finish up my work here…then die”. Well, he wasn’t too fond of that last part. ‘Cause after all, his life hadn’t been that bad. Livin’ in God’s creation and all the adventures he’d had. And Christmas was just around the corner and he knew the kids would be comin’ to stay. So he sent up a little prayer to heaven and summed it all up in this way. “Lord, I’m ready when you are, but I’m fine down here where I am. Each day is gettin’ a little tougher, but I’m doin’ the best that I can". “Now I know you’re birthday’s a comin’ up and what a celebration there’s gonna be. There’ll be kids a laughin’ and playin’ and food and lotsa presents under the tree". "But with all that good livin’, Lord, let us give you the thanks for all that you have given. Especially for takin’ the cross for our sins, so all of us can be forgiven". "So leave me here as long as you will, Lord and I’ll keep takin’ it slow and steady". "I just want a chance to ride heaven’s trails with Ya, but only when You’re good and ready”. R. Atkinson

Really enjoyed reading some of these stories,,,a couple of the older ones caught my eye, and saved/copied to share ~ the one on Roy Rogers reminded me of my childhood; and the one on the Seven Stages of Aging on a Horse,,,well,that one rang true! LOL...

I can never get enough of these wonderful stories and poems... ES is blessed with such Talented, and wonderful folks for sure!... Ron, you know I have always loved your heart that you put into your work...and have followed them for almost 8 years now. I hope you never quit sharing with the world... Heartman, you too, manage to touch my soul, as do many of the others here... Please, don't stop! :) Tammylee

“The old man sees the lovers.” The old man sees the beauty of the lovers, sends a wish to their happiness going home. He has dreamed of sharing life with a sweet lover, Through the lonely years, down all the roads he’s roamed. He feels an empty ache as he sees their shared love, hopes that he’ll not always be alone. When daybreak finds the lovers lying naked, or wrapped in sheets, in one-another’s arms, it will find the old man lying lonely, abandoned by dream love’s empty charms. Someday, he believes, he will find true love, one not gone beyond, along that bitter road of broken love and dreams, hope that she still will find true love, mend her heart, weave a life with true and healthy seams. No life has past thru living without dreaming. He’s not that different from those whose lives store highest hopes clean gleaning. He gathered kernelled lessons and their hard earned meaning; from mistakes based in childhood’s shadows, made in life’s winter wind’s cold blow, he learned from soul’s raw pain what and why he chose. Judged by wounded love’s appraisal, still, on what he’s learned, he would base all, do it all again, a greater love, a better friend. tripping on his tongue, plans come undone, at peace with honest effort, and fate’s laugh. Knowing love is what he and his love once abandoned, he lives, hopes love will come to him again; be his partner, lover and truth’s companion, see value grown by his honest judgement’s pain. Yes, he hopes a lover once again will join him, meet him as an equal, be his friend, want to share life and home and family, life’s adventure, together travel roads to never end. Alex Reavie

Father’s effects: a disarray of flotsam, mostly wreckage, shining bits stand out. Arrowhead and native artefact collection, my brother’s smile as we look it over, wreckage of old harness and horse equipment, angry recall of belly band beating back, buttocks and self esteem to raw sores, we discussed his means, displaying effects as we brothers with my remaining brother in law walked away from the grave. Later I heard my in law commented “I’d like to kick all their asses”. Dad would have laughed! I recall these things as I stand in the yard resting, a break from splitting wood, familiar task. Gathered together, blood relatives, family friends, neighbours recalled my father’s memory, commiserated with our loss. Clouds pass, cold rain drops, young year's tears, wind gusts cry through the forest around me. I need my coat. My silhouette as sun shines, his stance; working alone, I look forward to long distance conversation, son, daughter, my ex and reflect. How little I knew my father’s effects.

SAFE AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!! I would like to share a personal experience with all of you about drinking and driving. As you well know, some of us have been known to have had brushes with the authorities on our way home from an occasional Holiday outing over the years. . A couple of nights ago, I was out for an evening with friends and had a couple of cocktails and some rather nice red wine. Knowing full well I may have been slightly over the limit, I did something I've never done before,I took a cab home. Sure enough, I passed a police road block but, since it was a cab, they waved it past. I arrived home safely without incident, which was a real surprise as I have never driven a cab before and am not sure where I got it or what to do with it now that it's in my garage. But at least it fits in my garage, because my truck sure doesn't. :-) Ya'll be SAFE this New Years Eve!

My cowboy Christmas poem for 2012... The Lost’Un Well, the north wind was blowin’ and it was a snowin’ and the temperature was ‘bout minus three. The cowboys were bringin’ down the last of the herd in the hopes they all wouldn’t freeze. But when they got to the tree line the herd made a bee line and keepin’ ‘em hemmed up got hard. But the cowboys were seasoned and most of ‘em reasoned, “let’s keep goin’, we got them this far.” Then off in the distance, it seemed in an instant they heard a low mournful sound. The bawl of a calf lost up in them pines, but it was too late and cold to turn ‘round. Then ol’ wrangler Don said, “You boys trail on whilst I go look for that lost’un. The young ‘uns said, “Donnie you’ll wind up dead. That’s more than a doggie should cost us. “Donnie said, “Listen here you pups! Soon you’ll learn enough to know you don’t leave the little’uns behind”. “I’ve cowboyed here for nigh 40 years and I ain’t seen a one I can’t find!” “So as long as he’s hollerin’, his trail I’ll be followin’, on this much, you “children” can bet.” So he turned ‘round on ol’ Roany, his best saddle pony, and back toward the tree line he went. Now, he found the bawler at the edge of a holler layin’ in about three feet of snow. As he went to his knees he reached down real easy and said, “Little ‘un it’s time to go home.” Now, as I think about this story, I think of Christ’s glory. Whose promises are loving and true. So when you’re lost in the snow and don’t know which way to go, ain’t ya glad someone’s lookin’ for you. R. Atkinson

CHRISTMAS WITH LOUISE This is an article submitted to a 1999 Louisville Sentinel contest to find out who had the wildest Christmas dinners. It won first prize! Christmas With Louise As a joke, my brother used to hang a pair of panty hose over his fireplace before Christmas. He said all he wanted was for Santa to fill them. What they say about Santa checking the list twice must be true because every Christmas morning, although Jay's kids' stockings were overflowed, his poor pantyhose hung sadly empty. One year I decided to make his dream come true. I put on sunglasses and went in search of an inflatable love doll. They don't sell those things at Walmart. I had to go to an adult bookstore downtown. If you've never been in an X-rated store, don't go. You'll only confuse yourself. I was there an hour saying things like, "What does this do?" "You're kidding me!" "Who would buy that?" Finally, I made it to the inflatable doll section. I wanted to buy a standard, uncomplicated doll that could also substitute as a passenger in my truck so I could use the car pool lane during rush hour. Finding what I wanted was difficult. "Love Dolls" come in many different models. The top of the line, according to the side of the box, could do things I'd only seen in a book on animal husbandry. I settled for "Lovable Louise." She was at the bottom of the price scale. To call Louise a "doll" took a huge leap of imagination. On Christmas Eve and with the help of an old bicycle pump, Louise came to life. My sister-in-law was in on the plan and let me in during the wee morning hours. Long after Santa had come and gone, I filled the dangling pantyhose with Louise's pliant legs and bottom. I also ate some cookies and drank what remained of a glass of milk on a nearby tray. I went home, and giggled for a couple of hours. The next morning my brother called to say that Santa had been to his house and left a present that had made him VERY happy but had left the dog confused. She would bark, start to walk away, then come back and bark some more. We all agreed that Louise should remain in her panty hose so the rest of the family could admire her when they came over for the traditional Christmas dinner. My grandmother noticed Louise the moment she walked in the door. "What the hell is that?" she asked. My brother quickly explained, "It's a doll." "Who would play with something like that?" Granny snapped. I had several candidates in mind, but kept my mouth shut. "Where are her clothes?" Granny continued. "Boy, that turkey sure smells nice, Gran," Jay said, to steer her into the dining room. But Granny was relentless. "Why doesn't she have any teeth?" Again, I could have answered, but why would I? It was Christmas and no one wanted to ride in the back of the ambulance saying, "Hang on Granny, hang on!" My grandfather, a delightful old man with poor eyesight, sidled up to me and said, " Hey, who's the naked gal by the fireplace?" I told him she was Jay's friend. A few minutes later I noticed Grandpa by the mantel, talking to Louise. Not just talking, but actually flirting. It was then that we realized this might be Grandpa's last Christmas at home. The dinner went well. We made the usual small talk about who had died, who was dying, and who should be killed, when suddenly Louise made a noise like my father in the bathroom in the morning. Then she lurched from the panty hose, flew around the room twice, and fell in a heap in front of the sofa. The cat screamed. I passed cranberry sauce through my nose, and Grandpa ran across the room, fell to his knees, and began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. My brother fell back over his chair and wet his pants. Granny threw down her napkin, stomped out of the room, and sat in the car. It was indeed a Christmas to treasure and remember. Later in my brother's garage, we conducted a thorough examination to decide the cause of Louise's

MY D A D D Y SLEEPS NAKED "Late again!" the third-grade teacher sternly said to little Ranger. "It ain't my fault this time, Miss Russell. You can blame this 'un on my Daddy. The reason I'm three hours late is my D addy sleeps naked!" Now, Miss Russell had taught grammar school for thirty-some- odd years. Despite her mounting fears, she asked little Ranger what he meant by that. Full of grins and mischief, and in the flower of his youth, little Ranger and trouble were old friends,.... .. but he always told her the truth. "You see, Miss Russell, out at the farm we got this here low down fox. The last few nights, he done ate six hens. Last night, when Daddy heard a noise out in the chicken pen, he grabbed his double barreledshot gun and said to my Ma, "That fox is back again... I'm a gonna git him!'' "Stay back," Daddy whispered to all us kids! "My Daddy was naked as a jaybird -- no boots, no pants, no shirt! To the hen house he crawled, just like an Injun on the snoop. Then, he stuck that double-barreled 12-gauge shot gun through the window of the coop. As he stared into the darkness, with a fox on his mind, our old hound dog, Rip, had done gone and woke up and comes sneaking up behind Daddy. Then, as we all looked on, plumb helpless, old Rip done went and stuck his cold nose in my Daddy's crack!" "Miss Russell, we all been cleanin' chickens since three o'clock this mornin!"

That was PERFECT, But then What Happened? GlennH