Smoky Hoss Poems
|522.||Vision At Little Bighorn||5/24/2012|
|526.||A Million Miles From Home||10/16/2010|
|528.||Duke And Roy||1/13/2011|
|529.||An Old-Country Drive||2/10/2011|
|533.||A Brief Pause On Earth||9/24/2011|
|534.||Freight Train Fever||9/30/2012|
|535.||A Different Look||11/11/2012|
|537.||Prints In The Sand||12/18/2012|
|539.||Fishing With Dad||12/11/2010|
|542.||A Young Mans Dream||7/12/2012|
|544.||Cat & I||7/10/2011|
Comments about Smoky Hoss
Come and see the old poet
Laying in his bed of ashes and dust,
His love in ruins
His mentality frozen by restless rust,
His hungry heart emptied of it's fertile blood
His souls melodic purpose nearly gone,
The mellifluous music now so silent
The end, of a once wonderful and powerful song.
What happened to this poet
With dread you may ask,
The ancient story ofcourse
The evils of age and wear, and so damned many things out there
Working away at his heart, fulfilling their wretched task.
When poets speak truth and beauty into this old ...
If the world were flat,
That would be that...
But, the world is round,
Therefore, the end of it all
Can never be found.
Thus meant to be,
With always more to see...
The view, over the horizon,