This is a tale of long ago, when I was a kid. No-one believed me when I told them. I read somewhere that it was easier to believe a book than an actual person, and that is why I am writing this down, in the hope that someone will believe me. This is my story.
Back in the days, it was fun to imagine. Cars were few, so we kids were always let out if we wanted to. It was fun to just sit with your friends, lay back and imagine. I understand why the Greeks made the constellations. We tried it with the day. It was rather fun, making shapes out the clouds and sun, and even sometimes the moon. I particularly remember the one about the highwayman. First we saw a horse. We named it Pegasus, until we saw a cloud that was wider at the top like a head, and a cirrus cloud that looked like a gun. The Sun looked like a bullet coming out. That night, as I lay in my bed, thinking about the ‘highwayman’ of the skies, I noticed a bright light coming from the highwayman cloud. It arced in the sky before coming down, solidifying into a, centaur? No, an actual highwayman. A lasso swirled around his head as he shot across the field, firing shots every now and then. I lay back in my bed. When I looked again, he was gone.
Amongst the trees in a field of dust was a fierce cowboy all saddled up to his noble steed. Swinging his lasoo high into the sky, managed to catch not one, not two but three people.
The local residents cheered and clapped with amazement.
The cowboy all smart and proud said to himself “This is my home and this is my town”
Later on that day, with the glistening, gloom of the moon, him and his horse travelled to find their next victim……
For me it was a normal sunny day with cows, at least I wasn’t alone, my friend were with me, however they weren’t very talkative. Heat besieged me in seconds, suddenly a feeling tumbled down me that something was wrong. Anxiously I began to scan the herd. Where’s the new born calf? Frantically searched. Footprints, hoofprints, and there they were leading into the forest.
Obediently my horse followed my commands. We skidded, we glided, we ran. The powdery dust drifted into my face, as behind my dirty back I could only see clouds of it. As we tracked the hoofprints the sound of the herd faded in the distance. With panic we slowed down and entered a copse of trees as the bellowing of our treasure welcomed us in. Suddenly I saw a flickering tail, excitedly, I jumped off my horse and ran to my calf, then I realised that his leg was stuck. With relief I released him and carried the calf back. I felt his warm breath thank me, but then the quiet of the copse began to worry me. Where is my horse?
The Cowboy had a tiny, rounded, brown Stetson on his head. His beige, fringed trousers, coat and shirt were wrapped around his body. Galloping along a narrow, dusty path, he waved his lasso around in the air, as wildly as a tiger in the jungle, that is hunting.
The Cowboy was riding his chestnut-brown loyal steed, that was obeying all of his every commands. Behind him, the tired trees were waving goodbye as he rode of into the sunset-his horse left trails behind, from its hooves.
It was a hot sunny dusty day and the sherif was doing is normal rounds around town he heard trouble a head so he jumped on his horse Locky a went to see what was going on. eventually when he got there some cowboys were fighting in the bar it took him ages to calm them down when he did eventually stop them he sent them to jail only the bad people though he sentenced for two years in jail for attempt of robbery.He still does his rounds and fight crimes for his town, since then he’s been awarded six no.1 sherif awards and he was given a new horse named lucky.
“Sweet Home Alabama, I’m coming home to you!”
Whilst he was singing a song he was riding past the Appalachian Plateaus, He went past the dusty road, the odd bush and the odd trees. Him and his companion never stopped for water, they where travelling home from work; the palermo was going fastest, the man’s spurs where spinning around and his stetson was just sitting on his head minding his own business.
He got to his home town it was all quiet, there was an odd scream: “Not again” he said. The cowboys have arrived again, he mounted his horse and strode right to the other side. He saw people on the floor, dead, his Mum was on the floor too. He did not let this get to him, “This towns not big enough for the both of us.” Bang!
The Cowboy rode his magnificent stallion towards the horizon, rope whirling as swift as a cheetah. As the sun sets beyond the horizon, the trees waved goodbye in the breeze. A soft velvet sky appears as the Cowboy reached his home.
The Cowboy rode a majestic stallion towards the setting sun, rope whirling above his as swiftly as a cheetah. As the soft sun started setting beyond the horizon ,little stars started twinkling amongst red sky the Cowboy had reached home.
The tale that I am going to tell you today is a tale from long long ago…
It all starts in a small little village. Everyone there was very kind and helpful, but there was one little boy that was the complete oposite. His name was Jhon. Jhon had scruffy brown hair and was not that kind. He had grown up without a mother as she had died when Jhon was at a very young age. His father was very kind but he could not see Jhon that offten as his work got in the way. One day, Jhon was outside riding his horse in the meadow when he suddenly saw the shadow of a man and a horse. When Jhon looked up, he saw a tall man riding on a chocolate brown horse. The mysterious man was swinging a lasoo over his head. When Jhon had seen this man, he fell off his horse and looked up at him with fear.
“Well hello there young lad,” Said the man jumping off his horse. Jhon stayed silent as he did not know what to do. “I’m sorry if I frightened ya, I really didn’t mean to. I normally just ride around looking at the different animals I pass,” Said the man in a happy voice. The next minute Jhon saw vthe man’s hand reaching out to help him up. Even though Jhon knew that he was only trying to help him up, he still sat there not blinking. “Who are you?” ASked Jhon quietly.
“I work with your father, and he told me a lot about you. I thought I might drop in and meet you in person to see if you really are that bully that your father told me,”Exclaimed the man.
Jhon stayed silent for a moment trying to find the correct words to say as he was full of shock. After a few seconds of thinking, Jhon finally found his words… ” But i’m not a bully.”
“Why do all the children run away from you and all the parents complain to your father, And why do you have no friends then?”Asked the man.
Jhon felt ashamed. He had never thought himself as a bully. Jhon wanted to change as soon as possible… So he told the man and he helped him. After 1 year, he was already friends with the whole village.
Connor the Cowboy
There is a cool cowboy that passes me in the afternoons, he travels on his sturdy horse. His horse’s gallop is like thunder in the opaque sky. Dust swirls up like a tornado (or a whirlwind). His tall hat laughs and screams in ecstasy in the breeze. The figure carries a noose in his hand that floats in the gentle wind. At night the cowboy hunts for graceful animals that are fearfully weak or fiercely strong. The feather in the sky drifts along a dark river like driftwood.
His sandy-coloured uniform is padded with deep pockets. Eagerly, he kicks the horse in the ribs. The terrific tail on the animal SWISHES its hair elegantly. Together, they are as swift as a hawk, and as silent as the grave.
That cowboy is lethally indomitable. His name is…Connor.
This was a tale told a long time ago,when I wasn’t born. It was about a cowboy named Jack who was so skilled that barely anyone could make out his face whilst he rode his horse. The air would be filled with dust and mud as he approached riding his horse, a beautiful, obedient stallion with chestnut coloured skin. The day of the cowboy competition had come and Jack was taking part. The aim was to lead all the cows into the barn without any going loose. The festival took place in the small village of York, Jack was confident and pulled his cap on tight.BANG! The gun was shot and there was an explosion of dirt, the air was enclosed with the putrid smell of manure. Jack was artfully dodging the fences rounding up his cattle. Suddenly, another horse jumped over his stallion wounding him, still having the courage Jack continued to round up all his cattle. Soon , Jack had safely assembled the cows into the barn and managed to achieve second place ,for that horse rider whose horse had kicked Jack had won first place.
In the wild plain of the wretched West, stood a fierce cowboy with his trusty steed, running swiftly like the wind. Dust flew around, scattering as the horse’s hooves stamped violently against the ground. Patter, stamp, clonk !
Its legs were at a magnificent pace. They were incredibly increasing in speed. They were cheetahs zooming across the plains.
The scent of wet grass wafted in the air like a breeze. The hot, sweltering temperature tormented the rider and its horse but they still drove onwards. They were daredevils. Trees danced ecstatically beside them, feeling sensational harmony with the wind. The ground moaned deafeningly, clinging, clanging, banging and smashing.
The spectacular vista of the victorious valley invited the cowboy to continue his adventure…
As I hit the ball with my bat it went far off int the dusty plains. I ran off after it. I am the fleetest of foot in my village and I have the vision of an eagle. The ball was near the trees so I dashed off after it. Running towards the ball, I saw a cowboy riding his sleek chocolate – brown horse. The cowboy propelled his lasso over his head and hurl it into the plains. Another mounted cowboy was coming towards him. I could not look, so I averted my eyes just as the first cowboy fired his black Apache revolver. He was the victorious man in the end. He touched his heels to the horse’s flanks and they spurted towards the horizon. I gathered myself together and found the ball. As I sped off towards my village, I knew I had seen something that I would never get out of my mind.
I awoke not Knowing where in the world I was. Finally, I remembered but I did not everything because the last thing I remember was being taken to the king but how did I get here in the desert? Then it struck me like a bolt of lightning, my brother had yet again hypnotized the king. I could not bear the thought of my brother going to jail again right after he got out. I finally got up and beside me I saw a camel and some rope…
In the desolate desert under the moon, he rode on his mahogany-shade stallion. The Cowboy , brave as a mad bear, detected a group of bandits stealing from a saloon and decided to ambush them. Swinging his long lasso, he caught them and sent them all to jail for three miserable years. The cowboy felt like he fell through a portal to the sea of triumph . With the moonlight shining gracefully upon them , the cowboy and his steed rode away into the night.
It was a hot summer’s evening. The red, searing, blazing ball of flame was sinking away for another day. I was on my black, brawny and brave horse, Meg. She has a white star on her forehead and a small white spot on her back. Suddenly, a lion came out of nowhere, blocked our path and sat down.
I know this lion. His name is Tibo. Tibo is the most sympathetic, amiable lion you can ever meet. His mane is as soft as a fluffy blanket. His fur is the same but when you get to his tail you think of cotton candy. Mysteriously, he always smells like chocolate.
As I look Tibo straight in the eye, he speaks for the first time in two hundred years, “follow me into the forest,” he growls. As I gallop alongside him in silence towards the woods I think, “why hasn’t Tibo talked to me before now? Is there something important going on that he needs help with?”
When we enter the thorny, misty woods Tibo starts to talk in a low voice, “there is a problem between the magical creatures and the Rikis…”
We plunge into the thick undergrowth. Our quest has begun.
Below the adjacent sun ,which loops the purple moor , the Highwayman comes riding up to the old inns the brave ,ominous Highwayman rides over the radiant moor the handsome Highwayman rides as quick as lightning and , as smooth as the jubilant river on the East side.’Bang’ go the reins of the morose horse as the mysterious rider whips exactly as a precarious teacher .Through out the eccentric ,mixed wind the Highwayman can easily taste the taste of lime shuddering through the Highwayman teeth and, he can feel the monstrous air rushing through his hair . Until of course the momentous soldiers catch the determined Highwayman and harry hm through the year.
It was 9 o’clock dawn, the sun was slowly rising in the town of Denver. I could hear Autumn leaves dropping to the floor. Tap! Tap! Tap! It was a cold slightly soggy morning but the sun shone through even though not much heat ricocheted off of it. Then, all of a sudden, in the distance a mysterious man appeared on a horses black as night. He held an almighty lasoo in his strong hands. He was a cowboy from the wild west. He rode a wide range of different horses. He was the one and only Cowboy Dave…
This was a tale from long ago when a cowboy roamed the land on his almighty horse his name was Jim, Jim had been the best cowboy in history he would have never fallen off of his trusty steed Annabelle. One day Jim had been given a task to receive the golden whip from the evil god of the underworld, Cencae. This was tough for Jim and Annabelle but they could do it, when Jim had arrived at the monsterous cave of this beast he had taken out his trusty whip and trembled into the cave. So Jim armed which his whip had seen the monster, asleep but then he saw the golden whip glowing like the sun in the sky, he quickly ran over, snatched the whip and ran, then awoke the beast Cencae so Jim now armed with the golden, shiney whip he smacked the evil beast into his cave and the gods placed a secure boulder that could not be broken in front of his cave. Then Jim and Annabelle recieved praise from all the village people and were given medals for their greatness.
The sun was setting and the days were getting shorter. A cold gush of wind, as cold as an ice rink, came rushing through the chilly night air. One artful cowboy, even more daring than the rest, was riding steadily along the road. The lonely street was just a dirty lane of swirling dust, and a little bit of horse manure laid on top of the dust. A tiny bead of sweat trickled rapidly down the cowboy’s neck. The exhausted horse looked like he was about to collapse with the heavy load of water and food. The chilly wind was a ginormous hand, pushing along the pair of travellers. As the moon came up, the sun disappeared, only leaving a dune of warm sand.
Thump. Thump, thump. The cowboy rode his beautiful, milk-white horse in the vast meadow. It was so huge, that there seemed no end to the meadow to the naked eye. He rode as fast as the wind, or maybe even faster, for some reason that is not known. The air hit his face as he rode in the knee long grass that hid a wonderful nature. The horse’s legs were galloping too fast; it’s legs were nothing but a white blur. The occasional trees waved to the rider in the slight breeze, and as it was getting late, the sky was darkening, even though the sun was still some way up in the sky. Suddenly, the cowboy pulled the reigns of his magnificent horse, and while it was stopping, he jumped off, holding his lasso in his sweaty hands. He paced for some time, trying to find the right spot for lassoing. Finally, he rooted his feet to the earth, and through up his lasso, trying to catch the sun with it. Catching hold of the sun, the cowboy pulled and pulled, until the sun was in hands reach. As if it was nothing, the cowboy held the sun that was now an orb of lightin his burnt hands, and put it inside a black jar.
I was wanted,dead or alive.I was just a mighty,merciless twenty-one year old woman who would cout someone’s throat open if I seriously needed to. The sherrif is like a hungry wolf behind me by approximately three hundred and fifty-six miles, with his other pack of wolves,the soldiers.Just when they were inches behind me,I told my horse to gee up,and thanks to its amazing speed,we lost them.The sherrif’s blazing,red plume started roaring with rage and ,in the distance,I could hear it.I chuckle to myself.My horse went into a gentle plod because it was tired so we stopped by a lake for a rest.My horse started sipping the cold water and I got out my lasso.Splash!It wasn’t a big splash really,I tried to lasso the reflection of the beautiful setting sun,and as I did,the sun stayed were it was,It aeemed like that my lasso was keeping the sun in place.I saw a road ahead so I jumped onto my horse’s back with enthusiasm,got my lasso from the lake and we were off…
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