I know some of you are about sick of the rain, others are so dusty it's time to sell some cows. Some of the posts on here conjured up some thoughts, brought back some memories, so I thought I would play with your senses a bit. All of them. This may not be "cowboy poetry" but I probably aint no cowboy, probably aint no poet.
SUMMER RAIN
Many smells pass through a mind
Like different words that are sometimes read,
Smoke from a fire, a cool summer breeze,
Fresh cookies and just baked bread.
Flowers cut fresh from a handsome garden,
The prairie, when the bloom is on the sage,
The smell of apple pie, hot out of the oven,
A melon, when it has ripened, to the perfect age.
The one smell that is etched upon my mind,
From spending years upon the plains,
The smell of a just past storm,
Oh, the smell of the summer rains.
Many sights have these eyes seen,
Some of them you wish you could forget,
Of many things of wonder and amazement,
There's nothing prettier, than a good sunset.
The new born calf, bonding with its mom
A big ole rib steak, that was graded prime,
The mother Mallard duck out swimming,
With her new babies, for the first time.
The things you see in the winter sky,
After the moon has taken over the plain,
There has yet to be seen anything prettier,
Than a needed summer rain.
Many things have these fingers touched
Some bring shivers up my spine,
Some just leave me senseless,
Like the drinking too much wine.
The feel of a new born foal,
Mother Natures kind of velvet,
The shining silk of fine clothing,
And some things I haven't felt yet.
The touch of that special someone,
When you are lost and in some pain,
The gentle caress of a cool breeze,
And the feel of a summer rain.
Many things these ears have been used for,
Times to hold a hat on, at times for spoken word.
The calling of the coyote, moos from a happy cow,
Sounds of a bugling elk, that of a singing bird.
The small voice of an unknown child,
Really thanking you because you care,
Hearing the crying over a lost loved one,
At times can be too much to bear.
Sounds are more than meaningful,
When they come from people that are plain,
There still is that beautiful music,
That comes with summer rain.
Many things has this tongue tasted,
From the bitter to just picked strawberries,
Nothing like a rare cooked steak,
With fresh ice cream from the dairies.
Candy from the five and dime,
When you were a toddler of a kid,
Helping out at Grandmas house,
And you got to lick the lid.
Washing down with cold water,
The dust after moving cows on the plain,
The taste of the early morning dew,
Just after a summer rain.
Scott Wiley 2006
SUMMER RAIN
Many smells pass through a mind
Like different words that are sometimes read,
Smoke from a fire, a cool summer breeze,
Fresh cookies and just baked bread.
Flowers cut fresh from a handsome garden,
The prairie, when the bloom is on the sage,
The smell of apple pie, hot out of the oven,
A melon, when it has ripened, to the perfect age.
The one smell that is etched upon my mind,
From spending years upon the plains,
The smell of a just past storm,
Oh, the smell of the summer rains.
Many sights have these eyes seen,
Some of them you wish you could forget,
Of many things of wonder and amazement,
There's nothing prettier, than a good sunset.
The new born calf, bonding with its mom
A big ole rib steak, that was graded prime,
The mother Mallard duck out swimming,
With her new babies, for the first time.
The things you see in the winter sky,
After the moon has taken over the plain,
There has yet to be seen anything prettier,
Than a needed summer rain.
Many things have these fingers touched
Some bring shivers up my spine,
Some just leave me senseless,
Like the drinking too much wine.
The feel of a new born foal,
Mother Natures kind of velvet,
The shining silk of fine clothing,
And some things I haven't felt yet.
The touch of that special someone,
When you are lost and in some pain,
The gentle caress of a cool breeze,
And the feel of a summer rain.
Many things these ears have been used for,
Times to hold a hat on, at times for spoken word.
The calling of the coyote, moos from a happy cow,
Sounds of a bugling elk, that of a singing bird.
The small voice of an unknown child,
Really thanking you because you care,
Hearing the crying over a lost loved one,
At times can be too much to bear.
Sounds are more than meaningful,
When they come from people that are plain,
There still is that beautiful music,
That comes with summer rain.
Many things has this tongue tasted,
From the bitter to just picked strawberries,
Nothing like a rare cooked steak,
With fresh ice cream from the dairies.
Candy from the five and dime,
When you were a toddler of a kid,
Helping out at Grandmas house,
And you got to lick the lid.
Washing down with cold water,
The dust after moving cows on the plain,
The taste of the early morning dew,
Just after a summer rain.
Scott Wiley 2006
I like it you did a good job . Some of my favorite smells are the sweet smell of the lodge pole pines on a hot day , fresh cut hay or the smell of leather with the mix of dust and horse sweat. Ah there are many more I think we all have things that we enjoy or bring back memories. Thanx for sharin.