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Ridin' Out the Storm

The cowpokes is settled 'round the pot bellied stove all snug and warm, A-bracin' fer snow and gales frum the advancin' winter storm. Some enjoy Bull Durham roll-yer-owns, others terbaccy chaws. They've shed their reekin' boots - the place rings with loud guffaws! The boss 'lowed the norther would hit 'bout mid afternoon, So he had 'em corral the herd that about the ranch wuz strewn. The hosses wuz tended to, hay wuz scattered fer the cattle; Now, settled in the bunkhouse, the winders began to rattle. Angry clouds hid the peaks and scudded 'cross the Colorady plain. Gales of wind shrieked and moaned causin' a most eerie strain! Snow drifted higher and higher agin the ol' bunkhouse doors. I'll take a heap o' shovelin' to tend to the mornin' chores! Coffee wuz kept a-bilin' on the stove - it wuz black as tar. One feller with a right smart voice sang, a-strummin' his git'tar. A few played poker, takin' sips of 'shine frum a mason jar. Other's hunkered in their bunks a-snorin' with their mouths ajar! One ol' feller in the back room wuz a-takin' his monthly scrub, While others cussed him out a-waitin' their turn in the tub. Bein' snowbound ain't all that bad, they can cure their saddle sores. Besides, it's a break frum the boss and his onerous daily chores! Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)

Copyright © | Year Posted 2010




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Date: 6/21/2010 8:09:00 PM
Bob, I never lived in a bunk house but had to clean a lot of them but the blizzard brought back memories of a winter in the early seventies that got so bad and lasted 4 months it caused our kids to have to board at our country school with the teacher for a week. Billy would plow us out and wait for me to return and plow me back in after I would get the kids to achool. And do the same after school. July 4th that year there were still drifts of snow in the shelter belt. Great poem. thanks cile
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