Fruita Fall Festival 2010 • 27

CAMPFIREby Don Wynkoop

Sparks flew as though to welcomethe log that came to call.And flames beat back the darknessas the night began to fall.

He hunkered round the coffee pot,a comfort at his age.And with a sigh and squinted eye,breathed in the smoke and sage.

The bacon softly sizzledas the skillet did its part.And there’s nothing like a campfireto warm the hands and heart.

His hobbled pony nickeredas it grazed beyond the light.Dusk ushered in new noisesto serenade him through the night.

The crickets chirped a melody,then the hooting of an owl.And somewhere from the darknesscame a lonesome coyote’s howl.

He thought of things that he should doand places he should go.But the flame’s warm dance embraced his glance,he basked in it’s soft glow.

So he smiled into his coffee cup,fed the fire a chunk of wood.

For it’s the simple things that this life bringsthat make a cowboy’s life so good.

LIFEby Don Wynkoop

He works from dawn‘til setting sun.The stage is set, he plays his part.And always tired,but never done,though muses gently tug his heart.

With mouths to feed,he cannot play.The song unsung another day,the poem unwrittenfades away.

Cowboy PoetryBy Don Wynkoop

Fruita Chamber of Commerce