I wrote this one in December for my "santee;" that is, the person who's name I had drawn in a Secret Santa gift exchange I participated in over at Brightweavings.
It seems there's some as gettin' worried they ain't bin serenaded.
It seems there's some as gettin' worried if they'd bin forgot.
I'm here to stem that worried tide, for one o' you at least.
I'm here to say yer gift is comin', to the McFillin in the lot.
Penny sent this little ditty in. Seems there's more'n a few Irish cowboy poets in the group.
In order to avoid mishaps
Two upcoming events:
The twenty first annual national cowboy poetry gathering is being held this coming week in Elko, Nevada.
The thirteenth annual Cochise cowboy poetry and music gathering will be held February fourth through sixth in Sierra Vista, Arizona.
A short one. Just kinda popped into my head. Had to get a tumbleweed in there for Sandi.
high noon on the trail
tumbleweed goes blowin' by
dust gets in my mouth
OK, folks. I know y'all been waitin' forever fer me to post up some cowboy poetry that I done wrote myself, so I set myself down and finished up one of the things I been workin' on. Here it is. Tell me what you think.
There's some as says that purple
Is the colour of a King
They give it a fancy name and all (porphyry)
But it's the same old thing
Now I don't know 'bout kings and queens
And other powerful folk
Or colours 'n things they used to use
To keep people under yoke
But there's a time of day
After all the herd's been seen to
And I'm settin' on this ridge
'Tween the fire and my lean-to
When the heavens that seemed endless
'Neath the scorchin' sun of noon
Are drawin' down around me
And the night is comin' soon
When the prairies stretch before me
And as far as eye can see
Not another human bein'
Is sharin' the world with me
As the sun gets sinkin' lower
To'ard the straight line of the ground
When the skies have gone from blue to red
And there's silence all around
And there's a single moment
'Fore it all drops off to night
When everything seems to stop a spell
When everything is right
I can hear the cattle lowin'
As the cold is gettin' higher
I can hear the beans a bubblin'
O'er the kindlin' of the fire
And the sky at just that moment
In between deep red and coal
Is a certain shade of purple
That reaches into a man's soul
Now I ain't got no religion
But when I look around I see
That someone's tryin' to tell me
That there ain't no king but me
Image courtesy of Dornbrau. (Also, I'm rippin' off her freakin' bandwidth linkin' to it here)
A reminder well in advance that National Poetry Month is coming up in April, and this year, National Cowboy Poetry Week is April 17th to 23rd.
While y'all are awaitin' on me to post some o' my own cowboy poetry here, why don't y'all send me some o' your'n.
There is a cowboy poetry section at the website of Canadian Cowboy Country magazine.
A dog walks into a saloon.
He steps up to the bar.
The bartender gives the dog a loooong nasty look...
then says, "Whatchawant?"
The dog looks around the saloon, turns back to the bartender and declares:
"I want the man who shot my Paw."
thanks, Loretta. ;)
"Wish I had time for just one more bowl of chili." - Alleged dying words of Kit Carson (1809-1868) Frontiersman and Mountain Man
"When a cowboy has a chew in his cheek, don't slap him on the back." - Cowboy proverb
"A cowboy is a man with guts and a horse." - William James
"If you're a cowboy and you're dragging a guy behind your horse, I bet it would really make you mad if you looked back and the guy was reading a magazine." - Jack Handy
