Featured
Cowboy Poet
Ronald E. Shultz
Branded
Like a wild mustang on the range, I roamed
life without a plan. Christians seemed to be so
strange. I swore I'd never wear that brand.
No one could put a saddle on me. Many tried,
but they ended up in the dust. I was wild and I
thought I was free. Never did I see the chains of
sin and lust.
Then one day the Master found me starving on
the plain. I saw love in His eyes and peace in
His face. I couldn't resist, my heart had such
pain. I quietly let Him rope my neck with Grace.
He touched me with a nail scarred hand. A drop
of His blood totally cleansed me. I now wear the
old Rugged Cross Brand. My chains are gone and I
am truly free.
Satan had rustled and branded me with sin. He
deceived me into thinking I had a good deal. His
venom wasted this man from within And placed on
my soul his Hellish seal.
Let Jesus bring you back to His Salvation
Ranch. He'll give you a reason to lift up a
joyful hand. Don't pass up what could be your
last chance To wear that blessed old Rugged Cross
Brand.
Nov 22, 1993
Cowboy Up!
Be very careful what you say or do Or some
committee will be coming after you. I'm tired of
folks whining like a hungry pup. Come on America,
it's time to Cowboy Up!
Our ancestors came to a rough, untamed land
And faced their hardships like a woman and a man.
We once matured into gentlemen and ladies. Now,
we're raising spoiled, crying babies.
When times got rough, we took it on the chin.
Now, we want some to blame and a lawyer who can
win. Groups abound so we are quickly defended
When we lack back bone and are so easily
offended!
When a rider's been thrown and he starts to
feel down. His pardners say, "Cowboy
Up!" to bring him back around. There's too
many lazy folks rattlin' their cup. Come on,
America, it's time to Cowboy Up!
We surely have our problems and we so easily
sin, But nothing will change, unless we all chip
in. One day there will be no table at which you
can sup Unless Americans quit their cryin' and
COWBOY UP!
Oct 1, 1994
Dusty Trails
He lived the life, of a cowboy. Now, he's just
too old to ride. The years have taken away his
joy And now, they're beating on his pride.
He loved the Rodeo And for those days, he
pines As he sits on the front porch, As if
looking for Heavenly signs.
His face is worn and wrinkled, Like the
Stetson hat he wears. There are lines on his
face, For each of his wordly cares.
There's no young person to listen To the
stories that must be told. Lord, it's Hell, for a
spirit, so free To be trapped, in a body, so old.
He once was a hero That men told of, in their
tales. Now, those days are just memories Of good
horses, and dusty trails.
He mouths his harmonica, And plays a mournful
song. The young cowpuncher, in his soul, Never
knew days so long.
Then one night, as he listens To that old,
lonely whip-poor-will, The trail comes to an end,
And his cowboy heart lies still.
His pardners gather around, and yell, As the
Parson bows his head to pray. They let loose a
volley, because they know That today, the cowboy
just rides away.
Jul 18, 1994
Old Tired Cowboy
INTRO AND FADE 1st 4 lines after 1st verse,
second four lines after second
I'm an old, tired, cowboy That don't ride the
range no more. Just an old tired cowboy Sittin'
'round gittin' saddle sore. Oh, I'd love to drive
them dogies And have one more night in town, But
I'm an old, tired, cowboy That jist cain't git
around.
I used to love to chase those ladies And twirl
my guns around. I was wild and I was crazy, Never
thought I'd settle down. Then Old Man Time Did
what no gunslinger could do. He out me flat on my
back And now I'm feelin' blue.
I remember my pardners, Fiery broncs and
stubborn cows. Now, I'm ridin' a rockin' chair
And my bronc cain't pull no plows. I used to get
off six rounds Before another man could fire one.
Now, my hands are so twisted, I cain't even hold
a gun.
I heard them sayin' Won't be long 'fore I'm
not around. I'll be a ridin' in a hearse To a
fresh dug plot of ground. That don't scare me
none. I'm a ready to die And go herd steer for
Jesus On His ranch up in the sky.
July 29, 1995
Copyrights as dated, Ron Shultz
About Ron Shultz
Well, shucks, what about myself?? I live in
Mesquite, Texas the home of Championship Rodeo
and dang good BBQ!!! I've been writing poetry
since I was a 16-year-old hippie in '68. In my
30's I started returning to C&W music and a
love fer all things Southern and Western. Only
fittin' since I had the complete Hopalong Cassidy
rig as well as the watch and lunch box when I was
10.
I'm married 28 years to Karen. I have two
children Michelle, 27 and Barron, 24. My daughter
has given me four grandchildren so far. I am a
feelin' mighty old!
I make my livin' as a Computer Cowboy fer the
guvmint and jist retired from the Army Reserve.
I'm a part-time preacher/teacher at the Country
Church in Mesquite. I lead the Sunday Night
worship service and a 12 step emotional stability
program on Wednesday nights. My pulpit supply
ministry is called Maverick Ministries since I is
sech a maverick.
Other writing related stuff
I've done:
Tract "Which Way To God" published
on www.tracts.com, 1998 Author, Metamorphosis,
copyrighted and partially published collection of
poetry, 1968-1994 (Metamorphosis 2 picks up from
94.) Article, "Why I Prefer Expository
Preaching", published in Canyonview Bible
Seminary's Expositor, 1988
I post my Sunday night teachings on
newsgroups. A kind, young lady related to Nathan
Bedford Forrest, even though she lives in New
York, graciously published some of these in a
newsletter, Underneath The Palm Tree, (Alive
Ministries ) I'm sure he has forgiven her by now.
|X|__C];-)}|>
I'd love to pastor a little country church.
Maybe when I retire in 14 years I can find one. I
want to pastor part-time within commuting
distance of Mesquite. Y'all pray 'bout that,
heah? Hope y'all enjoy mah verse!
Ron Shultz
Luke 22:31,32
Maverick Ministries
http://www.mavmin.org
mavmin at juno.com
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