Cowboy Poetry: A Porch in Wyoming - a Love Story

An old driftin' cowboy, Meeteetse bound
Needed some rest and a place to lie down
Many a folk seen him early that day
They walked by his soogan
Without much to say

'Ceptin' one little gal with a right purty smile
Said, "Come up on my porch and rest here for a while"
She cooked him a meal and let him clean up
And brought him fresh coffee in a blue floral cup

She listened for hours to his tales and stories
Of bronc ridin' mishaps and gold buckle glories
Of rustlers and gun fights and old battle scars
Of nights in the desert camped under the stars

She knew by his tone that his tales were quite true
That his seen-it-all eyes confirmed all he'd been through
She told him she'd never been out of this town
She gazed at the sunset, then down at the ground

He tilted his hat back, took hold of her hand
Then turned towards each other jist like it were planned
He knew in a moment his driftin' was done
Holding on to each other till moon became sun

He said if I'm welcome I'll stay for a while
She told him he was . . . with that right purty smile
As they stood in the doorway he blessed God above
For that porch in Wyoming where he found his true love

Find the inspiration behind this poem in my short story "Dropping Yer G's"