August 25th, 2009 admin
The New Shoes – 2009 2nd Place Winner!
By Lou Winget 1998
Now, I’ve got several pairs of boots, Now I was working in the barn She wanted me to try them on
a pair for work and play. when the truck came with the box. to make sure that I fit ‘em.
A pair that I can wear to church In it was them pairs of shoes, I slipped into ‘em kinda quick
and a pair for “everyday”. some underwear and socks. and just as quickly quit ‘em.
I know not a thing about brogans. Ol’ Shep, he never barked nor growled, Soon after, she went off to bed.
I’ve worn just boots since I was three. as a guard dog he’s a winner, I said I’d shortly be there.
‘Twas all my daddy ever wore and so I never knew a thing What I didn’t say was, I needed time
and that was good enough for me. when I came in for dinner. to study on this “new pair”.
But one day there came a catalog Ma, she had the dinner fixed I know not a thing about brogans,
along with all the mail. and it was good as ever! as I have said before.
I never paid it any mind, She never mentioned ‘bout the box And now I have this pair of them
but, my wife saw it said “sale”. that came from Powder River. a sittin on the floor.
She leafed among the pages She waited nigh to suppertime I guess I’m just a country boy
to see what she could buy. before she broke the news. confused by things like these.
She found some things that we could use, And then she opened up the box With boots, you put them on and take them off,
and some shoes that caught her eye. and showed me her new shoes. as simple as you please.
I told her that I liked ‘em
The page said if you bought two pair, and I told her they was purty, The terminology’s way too tough
the next pair it was free. while I helped her wash the dishes for my mind to comprehend.
She ordered two pair that she liked that we had gotten dirty. There’s oxfords and wingtips, high cut and low.
and another just for me. Ain’t they all the same in the end?
And when she found all she could want, And after we had finished up A loafer’s a feller that just won’t work,
which wasn’t very hard, and the fire ‘twas a smokin’, and why does a shoe need a horn?
she wrote the numbers on the form she dug into that box once more I want my wife to be happy,
and used the credit card. and I thought she was jokin’ but, I’m sittin here feelin’ forlorn.
when she held them shoes up, smiled,
She mailed it off and sat to wait and said, “I bought these here for you”. I know she’ll want me to wear my new shoes
the six weeks like it said, So, I took them from her outstretched hand, to the dance at the end of next week.
and never told me what she’d done. for what else could I do? I don’t have the heart to say “no” to her.
She kept that in her head! I wasn’t sure just what to say Maybe I’ll just take them on down to the creek.
She wanted me to be surprised and I guess I sorta stumbled If I sit in the shade of that old pecan tree
with the present that she’d bought me. when I said “well, gee, thems really nice” and really study them things,
But, heck, even if she had said so and “thank you, Dear” I mumbled. by the end of the day, if I really try hard
it would have slipped from mem’ry. I’ll learn how to tie the durn strings!
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August 25th, 2009 admin
The Cowboy Way
By Sierra Wind
“Don’t talk to me in the morning until I have my Arbuckle’s.” cowboys use to say.
This meant that he was enjoying his cup of coffee, before he got under way.
Many a cowboy could not drink it black, alto that was a real eye opener.
Some would use “canned cow” to smooth the flavor and some sugar as a coater.
The cowboy bandana was one thing he could not be without.
It was a dust mask while driving cattle that kicked up dirt in a doubt.
As a sling in case of injury or a pot holder for branding irons or a hot pot.
The bandana would be folded in a v and tied in back of the neck with a knot.
What the cowboy wore had other uses you see and were well maintain.
The hat for protection from the sun and rain, to feed the horse of water and grain.
The boots had straight tops and a one-inch heel, fitting perfect in the stirrup.
The chaparejos helped protect them from cactus or getting cut up.
Branding livestock with a unique mark let cowboys know who the cattle belong to.
The cattle could graze freely, until round up time then the Drovers knew what to do.
The cattle consisted of heifers, some steers, but not many acorn calf could be seen.
The acorn was an undersized calf or called a runt and that would be too mean.
With brands the cattle roamed free-range over the American West.
Then after the round-up the cattle are driven to market to be sold with the best.
The bunkhouse on the ranch was known by many names and held many a rack.
It was doghouse, dive, dump, dicehouse, ram pasture or just a shack.
The code of the West wasn’t in writing, it was a kind of respect that each one had.
Always say “Howdy” when passing anyone on the trail, don’t want to make him mad.
Never try on another man’s hat, unless he is dead, then it is your, but his in the end.
Cuss all you want around horses, cows and men.
Never ever bother another man’s horse, especially without his saying it is ok.
A nod is the proper greetin, don’t want to spook the horse, if you wave, so they say
After you pass a man on the trail, don’t look back, he will think you don’t trust him.
Cowboys always help people in need, be it a stranger, enemy or just on a whim.
Sometimes they would “air the paunch” after some hearty drinking the night before.
Then they would climb back in the saddle, even after still being saddle sore.
Cowboys are modest, they doesn’t talk much; he saves his breath for breathing.
Always tend to your horse’s needs before your own, feed your horse before eating.
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August 25th, 2009 admin
Night On The Range – 2009 1st Place Winner!
By Robert A. Frost
The night was so clear and wide
As I looked out not a single star could hide.
The moon shone but a sliver
Slight she was she looked like silver.
I sat atop old Pacco my Strawberry Roan
With my knee crooked over her saddle horn.
The cattle were quietly lowing.
Tomorrow they knew we’d be moving.
I was rolling a fresh cigarette
Thinking of stuff I wanted to forget,
When the herd began a nervous stir.
I thought I saw something but I wasn’t sure.
I sat up straight in my saddle.
I worried that something might spook the cattle.
I walked Pacco to the back of the herd.
I asked him about it, he didn’t say a word.
What could it be, I wondered
Probably nothing, just a night noise I figured.
Then Pacco’s ears and head swung to the right.
Something was out there coming through the night.
It was a rider coming in slow.
I couldn’t tell yet if he was friend or foe.
I said,”hey” to the stranger
Hearing nothing, I felt a little danger.
He kept coming in slowly.
Hand on my gun, I went to him boldly.
Then a voice said, “I brought you some coffee”.
It was Harlan Stokes the old camp cookie.
“Watcha’ doin’ sneakin’ up on me”?
“Didn’t want to spook the herd”, said he.
We stepped down and he poured us a cup.
Harlan had known me since I was a pup.
“you gona’ tell me a story, you old silly goat”?
I knew what was comin’ as he cleared his throat.
“Seeing your horse there reminds me of a good one.”
“Its one about Jessie and a Strawberry Roan.”
“It was about two years ago when Jessie rode out of town.
She looked good and smiled atop her Strawberry Roan.
Some thought she was leavin’ to be out on her own,
She and her best friend Lady, her Strawberry Roan.
The truth was she’d gone up north to find her boyfriend Billy.
Personally, I thought her adventure was reckless and silly.
He left South Texas a year ago to join in the nation’s slavery fight
But, the war was over and he didn’t come home and he didn’t write.
I guess you had to know Jessie, she had a mind of her own.
So, she set out to find her Billy on her Strawberry Roan.
She rode north to the railroad camps and cold to the bone.
But, she was safe and determined on her Strawberry Roan.
Well, Jessie rode back into town late last night.
A crowd gathered at the square to behold the site.
For there was young Jessie in her blue gingham gown,
And there was boy Billy draped on the back of the Strawberry Roan.
She’d found him in Promentory at the railroad camp,
With a gal with no scruples, a regular vamp.
The story ends here, but there is a bit of a moral.
Never leave your gal waiting alone in some far away town,
You might end up like Billy on the back of a Strawberry Roan.”
Then ole Harlan stood up and looked to the east.
“Better get back heat the beans up for breakfast.”
He saddled up and waived goodbye.
That Harlan, he’s a good ole’ guy.
I watched as the stars began to fade.
I sort of wish Harlan could have stayed.
The sun shone pink in the early sky.
Another night on the range has gone by.
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August 25th, 2009 admin
ANOTHER NIGHT AT THE LONGBRANCH – 2009 3rd Place Winner!
By D. Schuller Jr.
Another night at the Longbranch,
the cowboys laugh and yell;
They come to town on payday
to whoop it up a spell.
A dark complected man steps up,
“Dos cervezas por favor;”
I draw two beers, he nods and says,
“Gracias, Senor.”
I wipe the bar and mosey back
to my place at the tap,
A gal at the corner table
gives a cowboy a slap.
There’s ‘Tiny’ at the piano,
he plays a lively tune,
Belle joins him with her sultry voice
to make the cowboys swoon.
Upon her face are miles and years,
which some may think is sad,
But I just stand and listen,
she doesn’t sing too bad.
P. 2
A gambler at the table
beneath the chandelier
Motions with his finger
to bring another beer.
He surveys the other players
as ‘Lefty’ deals out ‘stud,’
Across from him a sheepman,
his boots all thick with mud.
As I approach their circle
he tosses up ‘two bits,’
I catch the silver in one hand
and set down his stein of ‘Schlitz.’
The sheepman takes a bite of chaw,
then spits some on the floor
In the general direction
of a large brass cuspidor.
A smoky cloud hangs in the room
from cigars and cigarettes,
While the man at the roulette wheel
says, “OK, place your bets!”
P. 3
The steel ball drops into a slot,
“OK, it’s 14 black,”
The winner’s friends give out a cheer
and pat him on the back.
“Drinks are on me!” the winner yells,
they gather ‘round the bar.
He slaps down all his winnings
but it won’t go too far.
In walks our good town marshal,
back from his evening rounds,
He nods at two saloon gals
in brightly colored gowns.
He strolls on over to the bar
and shoots a wink at me,
I pour him one to warm the night,
(he gets his drinks for free).
He says, “So how’s it going?”
I say, “No trouble yet,
Cal McCoy just ‘won it big,’
over on roulette.”
P. 4
He says, “They’re happy when they win
and upset when they lose,
But either way, they end up broke
and always sing the blues.”
He’s tough, but fair, our marshal,
the law on the frontier,
It gives me a safe feeling
to have him standing here.
He keeps the peace, this is ‘his’ town,
he’ll stand for no abuse,
If anyone gets out of line
they’ll see our calaboose.
He drains his glass and tips his hat,
then ambles toward the door,
But stops to watch some couples dance
upon the crowded floor.
Another night at the Longbranch,
Belle sings another song,
I keep my place behind the bar
and quietly sing along ……
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