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Cowboy poetry I wrote in February

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leanin' H

Well-known member
Nov 8, 2007
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Western Utah Desert
I’ve had several experiences when I’m on our mountain where I’m sure I had company with me. Call me crazy and you’d probably not be wrong, but it’s happened. So I wrote this one to try and describe what I’ve felt. It’s called…….


This land, it speaks.
It speaks Directly to my heart.
From the ledges, to the sagebrush,
And countless others parts.

Across this lonely mountain,
To the canyon floor below.
These trails I ride are sacred,
And without a doubt, I know.

I never, ever, ride by myself,
Even when I'm all alone.
There are spirits in the breezes,
And there are ghosts I've never known.

Because this place is holy,
That's why we are all drawn here.
We mingle, and we visit,
And I have never tasted fear.

Because the souls who come to see me,
Are just generations past.
They miss this precious mountain,
And for as long as it will last,

We will gather on the horse trails,
And we will ride there, side by side.
Although I've never seen my compadres,
I sure can feel them as we ride.

The desert is my mistress,
This mountain is my love.
And others feel the way I do,
As they look down from up above.

So we saddle up our horses,
And we meet on mountain crest.
And we feel the peace of silence,
It's the sound I love the best.

But the mountain, how it speaks to me,
Words only I, and ghosts, can hear.
As I sit astride my saddle,
In that dry sweet air, so clear.

It bids me stay.

And I must obey the call.

I would have no other home,

Than my desert in the fall.

Darrell Holden
February 2023


Well-known member
Apr 8, 2008
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NE Oregon
I really like that one H. Reading it reminded me of two things which are very much a part of my life.

Near the end of Hemingway's For Whom The Bell Tolls the story hero is about to meet his maker. He tells his love to think of me and I will be there. There are very specific places I go and I can't help but thing of individuals that are now gone who had a big influence on my life.

The other is the Robert Service poem The Call of The Wild.
"Have you gazed on the naked grandeur
where there's nothing else to gaze on, ...........

Have you wandered in the wilderness,
the sagebrush desolation,
The bunch-grass levels where the cattle graze?
Have you whistled bits of ragtime
at the end of all creation,
And learned to know the desert's little ways?

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