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The Saddle
The old swells are cracking a bit
And the cantle worn near clean through.
It’s a wonder it all holds together
After so long of doing what it was made to do.
It’s never been oiled up
To hang listlessly on a rack.
Every so often it gets dusted off
With the rest of the battle-worn tack.
The sixteen-inch cantle shows tree
Where the leather’s been worn down good.
This old saddle is still fighting to hang on
To its leather, rawhide and wood.
The basket-weave pattern
Once stamped with such care
Is now only a faint trail of memory
To those who know it was there.
The horn bears marks of the dally
And the fenders are scarred up well.
The chunk taken out of the skirt
Hints of a story to tell.
There’s a row of notches carved into the right swell,
No one really knows what they mean.
Everyone’s got their hopeful illusions
Of what the first rider had seen.
Many a calf has been slung across its seat
And a few kids have learned to ride.
It’s slick-seated and polished from wear
And it smells of horse sweat and hide.
Once someone added silver conchos
And the stirrups have both been replaced,
The saddle strings barely hold a bedroll
And the maker’s stamp has been erased.
Whether it’s a branding or a calving ride
Or raking down a salty horse
This old saddle has never once failed
To keep a man head-on with his course.
It’s a saddle made for riding
Or even living in if that’s your way,
The blood and sweat and tears ground in deep
For tomorrow and yesterday.
The hard but loving hands that cinched up
Are now old and brittle with age,
But the stories and the memories that old saddle holds
Just won’t fit on a page.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Cowgirl Teamwork
Cowgirl Teamwork
My best friend is a cowgirl,
All ranch born and bred
And there’s usually mischief a-brewin’
Under the hat on Lacy Jae’s head.
We were sittin’ around one Friday night
Not quite sure what to do
When Lacy perked up, said, “Let’s head out,
Shake our loops at a cowboy or two!”
Ain’t no use arguin’ with her
So I pull my boots on quick
And we light a shuck out to the pickup
And to the dance to have our pick.
We go struttin’ in like banty roosters,
Ready to shake tail feathers and crow,
We waited and team penned us some team ropers
As soon as the music got slow.
We shined their belt buckles all night,
Whirlin’ around the floor
Before we grabbed some country wine
And headed for the door.
They introduced us to their cow dogs
And we drove down an old dirt road
To let the tailgates down
And keep dancin’, close and slow.
We mighta let ‘em steal a kiss
After a sip of wine or two,
Maybe let them hold us a little too close
After we made ‘em spit out their chew.
Come sunrise me and mine headed for home
While Lacy laid in the spurs.
Now when I go out a need a new wingman
Because she up and married hers!
My best friend is a cowgirl,
All ranch born and bred
And there’s usually mischief a-brewin’
Under the hat on Lacy Jae’s head.
We were sittin’ around one Friday night
Not quite sure what to do
When Lacy perked up, said, “Let’s head out,
Shake our loops at a cowboy or two!”
Ain’t no use arguin’ with her
So I pull my boots on quick
And we light a shuck out to the pickup
And to the dance to have our pick.
We go struttin’ in like banty roosters,
Ready to shake tail feathers and crow,
We waited and team penned us some team ropers
As soon as the music got slow.
We shined their belt buckles all night,
Whirlin’ around the floor
Before we grabbed some country wine
And headed for the door.
They introduced us to their cow dogs
And we drove down an old dirt road
To let the tailgates down
And keep dancin’, close and slow.
We mighta let ‘em steal a kiss
After a sip of wine or two,
Maybe let them hold us a little too close
After we made ‘em spit out their chew.
Come sunrise me and mine headed for home
While Lacy laid in the spurs.
Now when I go out a need a new wingman
Because she up and married hers!
Blizzard
Blizzard
Buck was ridin’ the fence line
One December day.
It was snowin’ pretty heavy
But it had to be done anyway.
He was ridin’ old Red
And they were plodding through the snow
When it started getting worse
And the wind began to blow.
He thought he’d finish his shift
So he kept on ridin’ out
Into the bowels of the blizzard
And Red went on without a doubt.
When his skin started freezin’
He buttoned his sheepskin coat,
Tied a scarf around his ears
And covered up his throat.
He only had his fencin’ gloves
So he put his hands up in his sleeves,
Still grippin’ on the reins
And watchin’ his own breath freeze.
Red’s was getting icy too,
Formin’ a block about his nose.
The cowboy and his horse kept going on,
Now he couldn’t feel his toes.
He had no idea where he was
Or where he’d left the trail,
He was in a full-blown white out,
He couldn’t see from nose to tail.
By now he was so frozen
That his legs wouldn’t bend.
He couldn’t get out of the saddle
Even if he found shelter from the wind.
Old Red just kept on walkin’
And Buck just held on tight,
Tryin’ to hum a cowboy tune
And calm some of his fright.
They walked for what seemed like hours
And no one knows what happened from there
But when they found them, so near the barn,
It put up quite a scare.
Old Red had frozen still standing,
And Buck, they couldn’t tell.
The foreman eased up slow and steady,
Said, “They must have been through hell.”
Buck was frozen in the saddle,
His hands still on the reins.
He’d tipped his hat to the frigid winds,
Winter’s downright dangerous on the plains.
The boys held a cowboy service
For him and Red, one at a time.
They’ll always remember their ride together,
Just tryin’ to finish the line.
Buck was ridin’ the fence line
One December day.
It was snowin’ pretty heavy
But it had to be done anyway.
He was ridin’ old Red
And they were plodding through the snow
When it started getting worse
And the wind began to blow.
He thought he’d finish his shift
So he kept on ridin’ out
Into the bowels of the blizzard
And Red went on without a doubt.
When his skin started freezin’
He buttoned his sheepskin coat,
Tied a scarf around his ears
And covered up his throat.
He only had his fencin’ gloves
So he put his hands up in his sleeves,
Still grippin’ on the reins
And watchin’ his own breath freeze.
Red’s was getting icy too,
Formin’ a block about his nose.
The cowboy and his horse kept going on,
Now he couldn’t feel his toes.
He had no idea where he was
Or where he’d left the trail,
He was in a full-blown white out,
He couldn’t see from nose to tail.
By now he was so frozen
That his legs wouldn’t bend.
He couldn’t get out of the saddle
Even if he found shelter from the wind.
Old Red just kept on walkin’
And Buck just held on tight,
Tryin’ to hum a cowboy tune
And calm some of his fright.
They walked for what seemed like hours
And no one knows what happened from there
But when they found them, so near the barn,
It put up quite a scare.
Old Red had frozen still standing,
And Buck, they couldn’t tell.
The foreman eased up slow and steady,
Said, “They must have been through hell.”
Buck was frozen in the saddle,
His hands still on the reins.
He’d tipped his hat to the frigid winds,
Winter’s downright dangerous on the plains.
The boys held a cowboy service
For him and Red, one at a time.
They’ll always remember their ride together,
Just tryin’ to finish the line.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Exploring Eachother
Exploring Eachother
The sunset blazes across your face,
Stopping to dance with the sparkle in your eyes
Before slipping its head under the blanket of night
As we ride in from a day of exploring new meadows
And treelines, new life among the last stubborn
Remnants of winter in the Rockies
As the land wakes and warms itself,
Stretching and arching its back to a new season,
Our bodies tired, minds awakened,
Hearts full from the day's adventures,
Exploring not only the land, but each other,
Feeling out new territories and seeking new possibilities.
I swing down from my saddle,
My legs more accustomed to the leather
Than the fresh air they felt
When we shucked our jeans and boots
And shattered the glassy surface
Of the lazy current at the bend in the river,
Splashing and rolling like otter pups,
A thousand hands of icy water slapping us across the face,
Baptizing and scrubbing us clean of the sediment of winter,
Soothing the dull ache of old pain,
Carrying it downstream and away from my heart.
The breeze wrapped itself around my legs
Like an infant's hand to his father's finger
And sent my brown curls dancing across my face,
Hiding from you the girlish blush that painted my cheeks
Each time you looked at me the way a man looks at a woman.
I nuzzled my head into your chest like a foal to its mother's side
As the sun drank the last tiny diamonds from our skin.
I counted the colors of the wildflowers
Like I counted the colors in your eyes,
Stealing glances at your chiseled features
And strong form, royal and masculine
Atop your tall sorrel.
Your warm smile and easy laugh
Soothe me, opening my heart
To ponder taking a risk again,
The way a man might ponder whether the water
Is deep enough to leap from a cliff.
This is the way it's meant to be--
Two free spirits embracing each other
In reckless abandon…
My body sighs into yours each time
You take me in your strong arms,
Challenging me and tempering me, all at once.
My soul is suddenly aloft, soaring overhead,
Awaiting the inevitable power-dive into a headlong tumble.
I am headstrong and bold, but you make me shy and mild.
My skin screams for your touch,
Impatiently waiting until the next time
You reach for me.
My hair messied itself in your fingers
As I listened to the cadence of your heart
As we rested by the river and you gently kissed my forehead
Setting my own heart aflutter like a great flock
Of redwings taking flight.
I mourn that the day is over and soon I must
Face the awkward parting of ways
After our intimate touching of souls.
I can't help but wonder--
How long will we gently trod in each other's lives,
Dancing around the fire of exclusivity?
For now, exploring you is enough.
The sunset blazes across your face,
Stopping to dance with the sparkle in your eyes
Before slipping its head under the blanket of night
As we ride in from a day of exploring new meadows
And treelines, new life among the last stubborn
Remnants of winter in the Rockies
As the land wakes and warms itself,
Stretching and arching its back to a new season,
Our bodies tired, minds awakened,
Hearts full from the day's adventures,
Exploring not only the land, but each other,
Feeling out new territories and seeking new possibilities.
I swing down from my saddle,
My legs more accustomed to the leather
Than the fresh air they felt
When we shucked our jeans and boots
And shattered the glassy surface
Of the lazy current at the bend in the river,
Splashing and rolling like otter pups,
A thousand hands of icy water slapping us across the face,
Baptizing and scrubbing us clean of the sediment of winter,
Soothing the dull ache of old pain,
Carrying it downstream and away from my heart.
The breeze wrapped itself around my legs
Like an infant's hand to his father's finger
And sent my brown curls dancing across my face,
Hiding from you the girlish blush that painted my cheeks
Each time you looked at me the way a man looks at a woman.
I nuzzled my head into your chest like a foal to its mother's side
As the sun drank the last tiny diamonds from our skin.
I counted the colors of the wildflowers
Like I counted the colors in your eyes,
Stealing glances at your chiseled features
And strong form, royal and masculine
Atop your tall sorrel.
Your warm smile and easy laugh
Soothe me, opening my heart
To ponder taking a risk again,
The way a man might ponder whether the water
Is deep enough to leap from a cliff.
This is the way it's meant to be--
Two free spirits embracing each other
In reckless abandon…
My body sighs into yours each time
You take me in your strong arms,
Challenging me and tempering me, all at once.
My soul is suddenly aloft, soaring overhead,
Awaiting the inevitable power-dive into a headlong tumble.
I am headstrong and bold, but you make me shy and mild.
My skin screams for your touch,
Impatiently waiting until the next time
You reach for me.
My hair messied itself in your fingers
As I listened to the cadence of your heart
As we rested by the river and you gently kissed my forehead
Setting my own heart aflutter like a great flock
Of redwings taking flight.
I mourn that the day is over and soon I must
Face the awkward parting of ways
After our intimate touching of souls.
I can't help but wonder--
How long will we gently trod in each other's lives,
Dancing around the fire of exclusivity?
For now, exploring you is enough.
Through The Storm
Through the Storm
Cinch up your stampede strings,
The wind chill is 30-below.
With a good cold snap in Wyoming
Comes wind and ice and snow.
Dig out that sheepskin coat
And somethin’ better than fencing gloves.
I’ll put on a pot of elk chili
And that cider that you love.
Plug in the pickups tonight,
They don’t start so well when it’s cold.
This is a night to bring in the dog,
After all, he’s gettin’ old.
Find the Coleman lanterns,
The power sometimes goes out,
Replace the weather stripping,
It’s gone bad without a doubt.
Cows are calving in this storm,
Of course they won’t go to the shed.
We’ll lose many a calf this year,
A fact that’s heavy in my head.
Will our hay crop last?
Will the crick stay froze?
I hate the chore of haulin’ water
With frozen fingers and toes.
But winter’s not all bad,
I can hold you through the storm.
When the house is dark and cold
We’ll keep each other warm.
I’ll make your breakfast in the morning
And have your coat by the door,
Give you a quick kiss goodbye
Even though I’m longing for more.
You’ll come home when the work is done,
Cheeks red and close to froze
But I’ll have your supper hot and waiting,
The dryer ready for your clothes.
You can thaw out in a hot shower,
I’ve got your towel all warm,
Then we’ll open a good bottle of Pendleton
And you can hold me through the storm.
Cinch up your stampede strings,
The wind chill is 30-below.
With a good cold snap in Wyoming
Comes wind and ice and snow.
Dig out that sheepskin coat
And somethin’ better than fencing gloves.
I’ll put on a pot of elk chili
And that cider that you love.
Plug in the pickups tonight,
They don’t start so well when it’s cold.
This is a night to bring in the dog,
After all, he’s gettin’ old.
Find the Coleman lanterns,
The power sometimes goes out,
Replace the weather stripping,
It’s gone bad without a doubt.
Cows are calving in this storm,
Of course they won’t go to the shed.
We’ll lose many a calf this year,
A fact that’s heavy in my head.
Will our hay crop last?
Will the crick stay froze?
I hate the chore of haulin’ water
With frozen fingers and toes.
But winter’s not all bad,
I can hold you through the storm.
When the house is dark and cold
We’ll keep each other warm.
I’ll make your breakfast in the morning
And have your coat by the door,
Give you a quick kiss goodbye
Even though I’m longing for more.
You’ll come home when the work is done,
Cheeks red and close to froze
But I’ll have your supper hot and waiting,
The dryer ready for your clothes.
You can thaw out in a hot shower,
I’ve got your towel all warm,
Then we’ll open a good bottle of Pendleton
And you can hold me through the storm.
Broke To Ride
Broke to Ride
“Darlin’, that horse ain’t broke to ride,”
I heard the boss say to her,
She was just a bit short but looked like the sort
That enjoyed the taste of danger.
She sidled on up to the chute
And squinted in for a look,
The eyes she saw were blood red but she just scratched her head
And the boss reached for the gate hook.
Well, she climbed up with her saddle
And slung it across his back,
Cinched him up right, smirked “That’s alright,”
And gave the spotted rump a smack.
She screwed on her hat
And took a deep breath
Sunk down and took a deep seat, we were in for a treat
Just hopefully not sudden death.
That girl raised her arm
And she set them spurs deep,
Gettin’ ready to ride she hollered, “Outside!”
And that bronc hit an angle somethin’ steep.
But this wisp of a girl stuck with ‘em,
Jump for jump she assailed,
He whirled back around and her rowels went to town
As he tried to touch nose to tail.
Us boys sittin’ on the fence
Hooped and hollered with glee,
“Ya think she’s done this before and is evenin’ the score?”
Slim drawled over toward me.
That ‘ol caballo rocked,
She spraddled and fired back,
No use for style but she had a pile
‘Cause she made ’em look like one sorry sack.
The hoss that’d dusted all our britches
Was bein’ rid by some girl!
Never seen the like in all my life, like lickin’ butter off a knife
I swear I heard her holler, “Now you boys take a whirl!”
She folded ‘em up like an empty purse
And we all felt like we’s beef, plumb to the hocks,
She quick him a-buckin’ and heads went to duckin’
‘Cause she’s vaquera to the stocks.
We knew we wasn’t worth a barrel of shucks
When she conquered that old horsehide.
She led him over to the fence and I saw the boss wince
When she said, “Now he’s broke to ride!”
“Darlin’, that horse ain’t broke to ride,”
I heard the boss say to her,
She was just a bit short but looked like the sort
That enjoyed the taste of danger.
She sidled on up to the chute
And squinted in for a look,
The eyes she saw were blood red but she just scratched her head
And the boss reached for the gate hook.
Well, she climbed up with her saddle
And slung it across his back,
Cinched him up right, smirked “That’s alright,”
And gave the spotted rump a smack.
She screwed on her hat
And took a deep breath
Sunk down and took a deep seat, we were in for a treat
Just hopefully not sudden death.
That girl raised her arm
And she set them spurs deep,
Gettin’ ready to ride she hollered, “Outside!”
And that bronc hit an angle somethin’ steep.
But this wisp of a girl stuck with ‘em,
Jump for jump she assailed,
He whirled back around and her rowels went to town
As he tried to touch nose to tail.
Us boys sittin’ on the fence
Hooped and hollered with glee,
“Ya think she’s done this before and is evenin’ the score?”
Slim drawled over toward me.
That ‘ol caballo rocked,
She spraddled and fired back,
No use for style but she had a pile
‘Cause she made ’em look like one sorry sack.
The hoss that’d dusted all our britches
Was bein’ rid by some girl!
Never seen the like in all my life, like lickin’ butter off a knife
I swear I heard her holler, “Now you boys take a whirl!”
She folded ‘em up like an empty purse
And we all felt like we’s beef, plumb to the hocks,
She quick him a-buckin’ and heads went to duckin’
‘Cause she’s vaquera to the stocks.
We knew we wasn’t worth a barrel of shucks
When she conquered that old horsehide.
She led him over to the fence and I saw the boss wince
When she said, “Now he’s broke to ride!”
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Karaoke Cowboys
Karaoke Cowboys
College: nights you’ll never remember with friends you’ll never forget.
The boys I run with are a pack
Of mangy critters, to say the least.
Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish
If I’m dealin’ with man or beast.
There is, however, one event for which
We all scrub up and go to town--
Every Thursday night we hit Joker’s Bar
Cause karaoke night comes around.
We hit that place like a hurricane
Tearin’ through Budweiser and George Jones
But when the Crown and Coke comes out
Johnny Cash meets the Rollin Stones.
Even the quietest of the posse antes up
And belts out a tune or two,
Surprisin’ us all to hell and back
With a liquored up I Will Always Love You.
Sweet Home Alabama and Addicted to Love
Are staples of our vocal attack,
And then one real out-going pard of ours
Lashes out with Back in Black.
Now, ‘ol Marc is real passable
On stuff like A Boy Named Sue,
It’s when he shimmies through Ricky Martin
We’ve gotta tell the bartender, “He’s through!”
James just sits there quiet,
Runnin’ the machine.
He might kick in on a chorus or two
Or crack a joke in between.
We all get our dance on,
Of that I’m bad I’ll admit,
Shinin’ a new buckle most every song
But I ain’t complainin’ a bit!
‘Ol Cody’s a fancy two-stepper,
We go whirlin’ across the floor
But by the end of the night his timing is off
And we go draggin’ him out the door.
We don’t really care if you can’t sing,
We aren’t claiming to be stars.
Why do you think the best karaoke
Happens in small-town bars?
We all like to have a good time,
Maybe meet somebody new,
Have us a couple of drinks
And sing a song or two.
So its $3 pitchers
And shots all around
Every Thursday night at Joker’s
When the karaoke cowboys come to town.
College: nights you’ll never remember with friends you’ll never forget.
The boys I run with are a pack
Of mangy critters, to say the least.
Sometimes it’s hard to distinguish
If I’m dealin’ with man or beast.
There is, however, one event for which
We all scrub up and go to town--
Every Thursday night we hit Joker’s Bar
Cause karaoke night comes around.
We hit that place like a hurricane
Tearin’ through Budweiser and George Jones
But when the Crown and Coke comes out
Johnny Cash meets the Rollin Stones.
Even the quietest of the posse antes up
And belts out a tune or two,
Surprisin’ us all to hell and back
With a liquored up I Will Always Love You.
Sweet Home Alabama and Addicted to Love
Are staples of our vocal attack,
And then one real out-going pard of ours
Lashes out with Back in Black.
Now, ‘ol Marc is real passable
On stuff like A Boy Named Sue,
It’s when he shimmies through Ricky Martin
We’ve gotta tell the bartender, “He’s through!”
James just sits there quiet,
Runnin’ the machine.
He might kick in on a chorus or two
Or crack a joke in between.
We all get our dance on,
Of that I’m bad I’ll admit,
Shinin’ a new buckle most every song
But I ain’t complainin’ a bit!
‘Ol Cody’s a fancy two-stepper,
We go whirlin’ across the floor
But by the end of the night his timing is off
And we go draggin’ him out the door.
We don’t really care if you can’t sing,
We aren’t claiming to be stars.
Why do you think the best karaoke
Happens in small-town bars?
We all like to have a good time,
Maybe meet somebody new,
Have us a couple of drinks
And sing a song or two.
So its $3 pitchers
And shots all around
Every Thursday night at Joker’s
When the karaoke cowboys come to town.
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