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Screenplay #1


Featured Cowboy Poet
Ronald E. Shultz



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
mavmin at juno.com

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