In Loving Memory
Ride On Angel
Spoken by the cowboy at her grave
I reckon the dawn broke soft today,
Sky turned gold in that gentle way.
But your hand in mine… it went cold, darlin’.
And I knew you’d rode on without callin’.
Ain’t no preacher here, no bell to ring,
Just the prairie grass and the birds that sing.
I laid you down ‘neath that cottonwood tree,
Where you first rode up and smiled at me.
The grandkids ran, too young to know,
How hearts can break and spirits slow.
But I’ll tell ‘em, Angel—I’ll keep it true,
The tales you loved, the things you’d do.
I’ll ride these trails, chase that sun,
‘Til my last mile, my race is run.
And when the Good Lord calls my name,
I’ll find you waitin’—just the same.
So rest easy now, skies wide and clear,
Your spirit’s free, your soul’s still near.
And every sunset, every dawn,
I’ll tip my hat and whisper—“Ride on… ride on.”