Urban Rancher Publishing

McGraw Ranch
As he began to heal and grow, the Urban Rancher realized that there had been a lot of good happenings in his life, too, with many of them taking place right there in the mountains he loved.

They lived on a part of the old guest ranch that his wife's family had owned for years, and as he started remembering, there was a wealth of experiences he had encountered in connection with that ranch . . .

Poems

The Urban Rancher
My Bike
Childhood's Maze
It's Almost Too Late
Little Brother
Floppy-Eared Dog
Only in Estes
Midlife
Death of an Old Friend
Flowers
The Mirror
McGraw Ranch
The Breakfast Ride
The Steak Fry
The Old Cowboy
The Mummy
The Ride
The Character
Our Steeds
The Garden
The Honeymoon Night
The Perfume
The Last Ranch
Patterns
Our Reunion
Where Are You Now?
The Forties
Mortality
Co-Dependents
Make Some Memories
Reflections
The High Country
How Can We Help?
Skybear
One of Those Days
The Vultures
Looking Backwards

If buildings could speak, what a tale they could tell
Of the life that passed through their doors.
The meals that were served, the horses taken out,
And the thousands of boots on their floors.

The ranch now is closed, only buildings are left,
And the memories that come from the walls.
Of the joys and the tears of the family there,
Through the years the memory calls.

From the roundup in the morning, the trail rides by day,
The cresting of a high mountain pass,
To breakfast rides and steak frys, to songs by the fire,
It was the utmost in life with such class.

The old barn stands silent, it leans to the east,
Looking each year a more unsteady sight.
You can still hear the echoes of horses and hooves,
And dances every Saturday night.

I slept in that barn, when I courted my wife,
A long dusty night at the best.
Seems I slept on a hammer, the horses stamped loud,
And I woke up with a cat on my chest!

The honeymoon cabin sits quiet and empty,
The shingles are starting to go.
But I look in the window and remember the time
Of our honeymoon spent there over twenty years ago.

The lodge stands majestic, but fading in might,
The piano no longer plays loud.
She'd play by the hour, till her shoulders were numb,
Singing songs with an appreciative crowd.

The hospitality was superb, the people were great,
The true Western experience, if you please.
The feelings were unequaled, it's like won't be found,
A place where you could truly "Rough It With Ease"!

Only the buildings remain, the ranch itself lives on
In the hearts and lives of the family and friends.
For it's the people that really make a place,
And the love that they carry to their ends.
                                   
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Urban Rancher Publishing, PO Box 3946,
Estes Park CO 80517-3946 USA
Orders: 970-586-2743, Fax: 970-586-6249
E-mail: urbanrch@frii.com


Copyright (c) 2008 Urban Rancher Publishing, Revised 18 May 2008