The Rhythm and Rhyme of Life

The storm was coming faster 

Than I'd ever seen before.

 And the cattle all were restless, 

They somehow knew what was in store. 

My pony, he was prancin' 

And I spoke in a soft voice: 

"Whiskey, we're on duty, 

"And we simply got no choice. 

"We stay here with these doggies, We can't cut and run."

 And I swear he somehow told me, 

I'm with ya til the sun. 

Now the lead cow she was movin' 

And she took the rest along. 

We tried riding them in circles. 

Tried singin' them a song. 

But when that clap of thunder 

Followed the first lightning strike, 

We nearly were run under 

In a plains stampede at night. 

I slapped Whiskey with my spurs 

And he leapt into a run. 

We had to catch the leaders. 

We had to make them turn. 

The river, it was swollen 

And it was just ahead. 

Three hundred cattle runnin' 

They sure as death were dead. 

But old Whiskey he was stretching 

And he gained at every bound.

 Across the brush and gullies 

Across uneven ground. 

He ran as if he knew that 

It was them or us tonight. 

And my money's on the cattle 

But my heart just held on tight. 

Through the flashing lightning 

And through the pouring rain 

We chased those horn-ed demons, 

I thought it was in vain. 

But just as I was ready 

To give up on the chase. 

Old Whiskey he'd just started 

And he doubled up his pace. 

The waters were a closin'; 

Four hundred yards to go. 

And somewhere deep inside him 

Whiskey seemed to know, 

That quarter mile was his game 

He forgot the other three 

He'd run across the valley 

Flat out, and carrying me. 

Well son, we caught those leaders 

Before the river's banks. 

And turned them from the danger, 

I cannot take the thanks. 

All credit goes to Whiskey 

That pony saved the day. 

And I pause here to remember 

Beside that horse's grave. 

The lessons that he taught me 

Are far too many to name. 

But the one that I'll remember 

Is always to be game. 

He gave his all to finish 

What he knew that he must.

All I did was pen this, 

But in Whiskey, God, I'd trust. 

 © 2005 Kimberly S. Brown