Montana Cowboy Poems

An old cowpoke from Cheyenne, Wyoming
Got a hankering and set out a roaming.
He got as far as Montana,
Choked on a banana,
And returned in a box...

Read More

Dreamin' with my eyes on these Montana skies
Blue as the plaid in my plum good shirt
I got the mitten by a beauty queen smitten
By a...

Read More

A lady's bed is of feathers
Cowboys sleep on the ground
A rich man sleeps with the ladies
Poor men sleep all around

He rode his horse from Montana
Stopped...

Read More

This is the place the ’punchers come
when it is time to drink their pay,
ride in from the hilly rangelands
to forget cattle for a day.

Norma in...

Read More

thinking it was done in our favor
we quickly found that it had neither
been rehersted or a proper procedure
to evade it's occurrence: had been
sequensed into a...

Read More

I set out from Chicago town
in spring, eighteen seventy-nine,
offered one hundred and a stake
in the new Kennevor gold mine.
Had to provide security
and keep all of...

Read More

Burke Bowden rode slowly through the piney hills
outside the mining town of Tillico.
Hiding himself there in the Montana woods
where decent folks would rarely go.
He had...

Read More

The Camp Cooky’s singin again outa tune,
  about turnin 60 today around noon

"What good is there in it?" I hear him say,
  and...

Read More

I'm on my way to Butte Montana, 
where the mountains reach the sky, 
and the eagles soar way up high, 
folks are friendly and give...

Read More

Often times I dream of days gone past -
Although, I've not lived then -
Neither saddle or horse shoe cast:

Where was he when I first envisioned...

Read More

He was her part time lover
even though he was her only one
A man you could love
But she’d never let him know…
she had a full time...

Read More

Glitterin' gold wuz struck along Alder's Gulch in eighteen sixty-three!
Potential prospectors came frum as fer away as Knoxville, Tenn-o-see!
Hordes uv soiled doves and gamblers migrated...

Read More

Ireland,
 ancient song of my soul,
a haunting melody 
that strains against the wind
and leaves me searching 
for my distant pasts.

Monasterevin, Armagh, Inish Mor…
I hear your...

Read More

On a Charlie Russell range under royal Montana skies,
Pale Shoshones and bison bones bring tears to old squaw’s eyes.
A purple wash of prairie sun slides...

Read More