Me and my fellow buckaroos have had a real rough day.
Plumb tuckered out, we still are not ready to hit the hay.
Our bacon, the beans and biscuits have all been gobbled up.
My coffee now is growing cold inside my old tin cup.
Sitting around the fire, it feels good to just lean back.
A harmonica my friend is taking now from his "war sack."
melancholy is his tune. Two cowpokes who have guitars
are joining in with my friend Jake. I look up at the stars.
I want to liven up the scene, so I sing them my new song -
the one I wrote a month ago. The others sing along.
I love this life and being on this current cattle drive.
Not married yet, I'm saving up. At least I can survive!
It's time to get our sleep in. My bedroll's spread out. By and by,
I'll be deaming about my gal Sal beneath this starry sky!
Jan. 27, 2021
Jan. 27, 2021 for Line Gautheir's 'Cowboy Poetry' Poetry Contest
Buckaroos wave in the wagons into a corral, circle of
Conestoga wagons mixed with covered wagons 100 count,
Next to the butte, a springer delivers calf alive; compadres cheer wahoo!
Exuberance looking at large remuda, choosing each a horse to mount.
Morning sun illuminates camp as mozo helps secure on a horse the rig,
Saddle up with aparejo and alforja to work on the range, the keen
Vaqueros mill the running cattle into a circle, and bulldog the doggie
Pulling down the calf to avoid the barranca deep ravine.
Noontime hot sun heats frijoles, huevos rancheros, and beef or lunch,
Cowboys drift cattle slowly ranch side, buckaroo pulls in the doggie stray calf,
Moving away from the coulee ravine towards the crick,
Dragonflies zoom near as waddys punch cattle herding,
resounding a hooray laugh.
Evening warm summer sun lights adobe viga roof beam end rustic,
Acequia irrigation canal greens the bolson flat arid valley,
Olla earthenware pot full of water complement hoedown and dinner,
Ramada shelter branches on roof give rest to camp, peaceful tally.
Can't take my hands... uh, my eyes off of you
A slip of the tongue... thought that crap I outgrew
Could live another fifty
Can still be quite shifty
Conniving and controlling, me lovely bucaroos
A strong wind blew
On the water blue
The storm had brewed
They weren't buckaroos
The sail broke in half
It was tied with a scarf
Hoping it would hold
All were feeling cold
Praying to get ashore
It seemed such a chore
This was never done
Their bodies were sore
With big boo-boos
They wanted to reach
the beach
That was outreached
Watch those buckaroos lose their insides when saddled to a wild one untied it’s fer a sight when they ride . Yiddy –up was the wail when a bull of a devil left his trail some kinda fight on the road to hell.
No wonder I headed for Whiskey Row with some forty drinks down below sure is thunder in your hole will rock your soul as you face the mighty cold.
Strums my guitar and softly singing as the cowboys are around the camp fire ringing as the fire is blazinin another day is hazing. Got the notion for prayin as another cowboy was payin and he was sayin
Lord ya know the deeds I’ve done and in the shadows I have hung I just wanted to be thankful for meeting me on this fateful day and in thy range I will forever stay.
Vanita Allgood