Ghost Riders in the Sky
Posted: Sun Dec 05, 2010 10:51 am
New to this site.
Ghost riders in the Sky
The old man stood at the slip-rails,
and peered down the darkening track.
He sensed in the air there was trouble,
For the stockmen he sent weren't back.
The mind of the old man was tracing,
The track that the stockmen would take.
And the hours were quickly eroding,
for he knew just what was at stake.
The cattle were destined for market,
McDonald's the buyer had clout.
If the mob were late for the slaughter,
The seller was sure too miss out.
Time now the essence of failure,
The mob had to be here, now, today.
If not his business was ruined,
and some lousy stockmen would pay.
The cattle they mustered were green horns,
not accustomed to Man, Horse or whip.
Take flight before knowing what spooked,
them, and give those stockmen the slip.
The entrepreneurial skills of the riders,
Would never be questioned again.
for they knew the Boss would be angry,
and could end up going insane.
No horsemen yet born could contain them,
As the storm clouds rolled in from the west.
Lightning and thunder would spook any mob,
putting rider and horse to the test.
The sweat on his brow told the story,
of death that comes swiftly at night.
And the anguish and torment would linger,
Till every rider and steer was in sight.
Then out of the blue came a sight to behold,
The sky had turned red from the dust.
His stockmen appeared riding horse with wings,
and the cattle they pushed were all trussed.
The old man stood with his mouth open wide,
at the sight that had taken his eyes.
Each steer was rapped with a label,
and attached to a bag of French fries.
Yes, his prize herd came a bit unexpected,
for there wasn't a raw hide in sight.
With battle lines drawn and stockwhip in hand,
The old Codger was sparin to fight.
But the horsemen had smiles on their faces,
when that old face lit up with a glow.
Those Angus Beef Burgers in Maca's raps
were already and rearing too go.
Noel causer © 2010
Ghost riders in the Sky
The old man stood at the slip-rails,
and peered down the darkening track.
He sensed in the air there was trouble,
For the stockmen he sent weren't back.
The mind of the old man was tracing,
The track that the stockmen would take.
And the hours were quickly eroding,
for he knew just what was at stake.
The cattle were destined for market,
McDonald's the buyer had clout.
If the mob were late for the slaughter,
The seller was sure too miss out.
Time now the essence of failure,
The mob had to be here, now, today.
If not his business was ruined,
and some lousy stockmen would pay.
The cattle they mustered were green horns,
not accustomed to Man, Horse or whip.
Take flight before knowing what spooked,
them, and give those stockmen the slip.
The entrepreneurial skills of the riders,
Would never be questioned again.
for they knew the Boss would be angry,
and could end up going insane.
No horsemen yet born could contain them,
As the storm clouds rolled in from the west.
Lightning and thunder would spook any mob,
putting rider and horse to the test.
The sweat on his brow told the story,
of death that comes swiftly at night.
And the anguish and torment would linger,
Till every rider and steer was in sight.
Then out of the blue came a sight to behold,
The sky had turned red from the dust.
His stockmen appeared riding horse with wings,
and the cattle they pushed were all trussed.
The old man stood with his mouth open wide,
at the sight that had taken his eyes.
Each steer was rapped with a label,
and attached to a bag of French fries.
Yes, his prize herd came a bit unexpected,
for there wasn't a raw hide in sight.
With battle lines drawn and stockwhip in hand,
The old Codger was sparin to fight.
But the horsemen had smiles on their faces,
when that old face lit up with a glow.
Those Angus Beef Burgers in Maca's raps
were already and rearing too go.
Noel causer © 2010
