Featured Poet
Michael "Coyote" Schroll




	AT THE AIRPORT
	
	"He's got a bomb!"  She yelled out loud.
	"It's somewhere in his pants!"
	Up against the wall she screams
	"We can not take a chance!"
	
	She probed me with that wand up close
	Went off just like a bell.
	"It's jail for you and no way out,
	You terrorist from hell!"
	
	It's just them steel shanks in my boots."
	I pleaded for my life.
	"Take 'em off and walk back through."
	Her heart was cold as ice.
	
	Stockin'd foot, a crowd around
	I tried it one more time.
	Them bells and whistles sang their song,
	"My flight I'll miss real fine!"
	
	"Up against the wall," she says
	"You no good terrorist!
	Get the cuffs, we'll lock him up,
	Just slap 'em on his wrists."
	
	I empty out my pockets now,
	Coins and keys and such.
	Weren't nothin' left I figured now
	I never had that much.
	
	That damn machine went off again!
	The crowd began to build.
	"It's him!"  She yells, "Remove that shirt!
	That Cowboy hat is filled!"
	
	"There's dynamite or some such thing,
	It must be in your pants!
	Take 'em off!"  She said to me,
	"We can not take the chance!"
	
	The crowd's intense and lookin' on,
	My buckle's on the floor.
	No shirt, no boots, and now my pants,
	Embarrassin' for sure.
	
	I walk back through that cattle shute
	My skivvies all I had.
	This airport travel ain't much fun
	In fact, it's pretty bad.
	
	No bells or whistles screamed this time
	Slipped through with out no fuss.
	I think by Gawd it's easier,
	Just to take the bus.
	
	
	Michael "Coyote" Schroll  6/98



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	HIGH ON A HILL	

	They'd ridden hard for hours now
	Had made the highest crest.
	She followed close, and watched him climb
	They'd work, and then they'd rest.
	
	Their horses lathered, pulling wind
	They climbed and made the grade.
	Was up the hill and down again
	Their strength, would just not fade.
	
	The Cowgirl watched the Cowboy ride
	He took control and went.
	She followed closley by his side
	Their horses almost spent.
	
	She'd take the lead for just a bit
	He'd follow right behind.
	Was like a game, a dance perhaps
	They'd want no other kind.
	
	Were miles 'till they came to rest
	That Cowboy and the Girl.
	They'd travled East, then gone south
	They made it 'round the world.
	
	Was time to sleep, recoperate
	To find a place and rest.
	Their journy's plesent memories
	Had found the highest crest.
	
	
	Michael "Coyote" Schroll   1/99

THE COWBOY AND THE COWGIRL The cowgirl looked into his eyes He took her breath away. She knew he rode for X BAR 9 No words that she couldn't say. His clothes were dusty, hat was stained The chaps he wore were old. Said he'd ridden half the day "Your all alone I'm told." She smiled at him and answered, "Yes." Her soft eyes sparkled clear. Rich hair fell like water falls Days heat, she felt so near. He stepped down off that horse he rode Held his hat in hand. His face was weathered by the wind 'Bout 6 foot he did stand. "I'm glad you stopped." she said to him "Not easy all alone." Somethin' 'bout this man she saw And the horse he called, "Old Roan." He felt a sudden warmth for her Eyes were bright and clear. Her lips were soft and moist to touch He brought her gently near. Respond she did and held him tight She looked into his face. The cowgirl knew her heart would melt It fluttered and it raced. He bent on down and kissed her cheek Took her essence in. The cowboy knew he'd found his place Romance could now begin. Michael "Coyote" Schroll 11/98
SMUDGED GLASS Almost thought I saw unreal, A moon so bright and clear. Was in the East and hung so low, It seemed so very near. I think on back long years ago, When you and I were new. Lookin' through a nose smudged glass, A moon just seen by two. That night was calm as I recal, Was tender and so slow. The candles burned and music flowed, Our love we came to know. I miss the look, deep in your eyes, That smile you always had. Not much in this old cowboys life, Has turned so very bad. It's missin' now, that naked truth, We had it once upon. The moon we saw and wondered at, Has darkened, and it's gone. Michael "Coyote" Schroll 4/98

ABOUT MICHAEL "COYOTE" SCHROLL
WYOMING'S RESIDENT COWBOY POET

Michael "Coyote" Schroll is a 4th generation Westerner. He is a graduate of the University of Wyoming, with a degree in Communications and the Performing Arts. Michael is a water color artist painting mostly Western themes and trout flys. "Horse Tucker" is his faithful companion, and if close to Cheyenne, you may spot them riding over the high plains in pursuit of Western Adventure. Michael is a Wrangler-Guide and the "Resident Cowboy Poet" for the Terry Bison Ranch in South East Wyoming. His latest passion is a horse named "Sweet Water" a BLM Mustang he adopted and is now patiently "gentling."

Michael's poems are the words of a Cowboy, they give his audiences a glimpse into how the West was, and how it continues to be. "Cowboy Poetry is an art form that must be heard to fully enjoy its depth and grittiness. The spoken Cowboy word is a living tradition, going back for generations. Cowboys, siting by the campfire, spun "Windies" to entertain and impress each other. The practice would help pass the lonely nights, reminding them of the loves they left behind and the sweet promise of a better tomorrow." The stories Michael tells are are filled with a deep passion for the, "Cowboy Way" and the free Western lifestyle he lives. Some of his rhymes are serious, some sad and some will have you rolling on the floor.

Michael is dedicated to his Western Heritage, knowing the long line of family that struggled to help form the West, "Is something to be proud of." A business man and Cowboy, Michael "Coyote" Schroll lives the Western life, like a man truly from Wyoming.

You can contact Michael at MIKSCO@prodigy.net

Visit his web site at www.cowboypoems.com


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