A Cowboy Tradition: Poems From the Heart

By T.K. Galarneau

Cowboy Tradition: Poems From the Heart is about ordinary people who spent their lives living and working the land on the Camas Prairie. These poems are based on real people from the author's memories of growing up in Nezperce, Idaho and about family members who have passed on and left their stories in the author's care. Some of the characters like Charley are fictional, but could have very easily existed in the past.

 

This is a tribute to all the vaqueros, Californios, buckaroos, and cowboys who are still out there working the herds in the traditional way. You are the folks keeping alive a way of life that is fast disappearing into folklore.

• Language: English
• Publisher: GusGus Press
• Release date: Sep 13, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201035839

Book preview

Part I

Cowboy/Ranch

A Cowboy Christmas

He lives a very simple life,

He doesn’t ask for much.

An honest pony to work the herd,

A cow dog’s his right hand.

Just one hand to count his friends,

There ain’t six figures in his pay.

He works most times for room and board,

He’ll not get rich herdin’ cows.

Yet he gives thanks for what he has,

’Specially this time of year.

With snow a fallin’ all around,

The range is dressed in white.

He makes his rounds whistlin’ low,

And calmly he waits for reply.

His patience is rewarded soon,

A soft lowin’ comes on the wind.

Time to move along now son,

He nudges his pony on,

"There’s cattle just up ahead,

We need to bring ’em in."

He works his way behind the strays,

He lets his dog go by.

A gee and haw and soon their up,

Movin’ toward the barn.

He checks his tally book to see,

That all the cows are found.

There always seems to be just one,

To make the count askew.

Above the wind he hears a cry,

A bawlin’ he’s heard before,

And sure enough, there in the brush,

He found a newborn calf.

Hush your bawlin; you’re alright.

The cowpoke gently hoists him up

Onto his pony’s neck,

Then climbed aboard behind.

They turned for home as daylight dimmed,

And darkness closed around them.

The blackness would have been their doom,

But for one lone star that shone above.

Just like the star that led the Kings,

It brightened up the trail.

Through the gloom a light burned bright,

And brought the cowboy home.

He put the strays into the barn,

And unsaddled his good pony.

Into the cabin he took the calf,

And laid him by the fire.

’Tis the season to count your blessings,

When simple pleasures count the most.

A cowboy’s life is never tranquil,

Except this night where he finds . . .

"Peace on earth good will to men . . ."

A Home on the Range

A city feller said to me,

How come you live out here?

I looked at him incredulously,

His question seemed unclear.

"You don’t have any WiFi,

A Starbucks can’t be found.

A fashionista could not buy,

What in cities does abound."

I sadly shook my aching head,

"Yes sir yer right indeed.

We don’t have none of that,"

I said. Of that we have no need.

"There’s lots of things we haven’t got,

But you’ve got God’s aplenty.

What we have earned it was hard bought,

And yours was gained too quickly."

"We haven’t got a crime rate high,

That comes from city dwellin’.

Seems to me you’ve gone awry,

Society’s near to crumblin’."

"The air we breathe is still darn clean,

While yours is black and filthy.

To live in town you need vaccines,

Retirin’ there is chancy."

That city feller’s eyes did blink,

He wasn’t yet convinced.

"Don’t think I am the missing link,

Don’t be so prejudiced."

"Technol’gy’s made the future bright,

We’re not near rack and ruin.

You’ve never seen the city lights,

You’re still gawking at the moon."

"People visit city parks,

Museums are filled with art.

Everywhere there’s landmarks,

No one can tear apart."

That city boy just didn’t know,

Just what he had to lose.

What I had learned so long ago,

He really was confused.

"Just this once I will confess,

The things you say are true.

But where I sit you’re still a mess,

From this my point of view."

"The parks are full of dealers,

They sell their drugs to kids.

The landmarks they’re like cankers,

Your city’s on the skids."

"Take a look around my place,

And tell me what you see.

Look at all the open space,

I’m as free as I can be."

All I need to live is here,

I guess you think I’m poor,

Livin’ on the great frontier,

We sure ain’t haute couture.

The land’s been here for eons,

Far back as I can tell.

I’ll never make concessions,

This land I could not sell.

The city feller eyed me good,

Before he spoke again.

"I’m sorry I misunderstood,

I thought you were insane."

"Way out here on the prairie,

So far away from town,

Life seemed to be contrary,

I could never settle down."

"Through your eyes it’s very clear,

The hold your land can make.

The very land you hold so dear,

At last I’m wide awake!"

The slicker went on back to town,

His mind was still the same.

Maybe he will write this down,

This really ain’t that lame.

I showed him prairie flowers,

When they’d come out to play.

They really have the power,

They can light a rainy day.

Blinded by technology,

There seemed no other way.

He mumbled an apology,

And he left without delay.

I’ll never leave the country,

He’ll never move from town.

I’d miss the simple symmetry,

That comes around sundown.

A Little Cowboy Wisdom Never Hurts

A good cowboy knows on whom to rely

His horse and his dog he keeps them nearby.

He’ll have his job so well thought out,

But if there’s any doubt, his horse figures it out.

The chores on the range are varied it’s true

A really good cow hand will know what to do.

Sometimes those bovines have places to hide

And if your horse won’t go there, neither should you.

A good buckaroo can handle most horses

He uses his head but he never forces

When all of the things he’s learned are applied

He climbs in the saddle; he’s ready to ride.

A cow hand’s horse is his partner and friend

None of the work would get done in the end

Without his pony it’s a cowboy’s remorse

So do the job right or get off the horse.

Treat your horse right, don’t run him to ground

Without his cow horse a hand’s often found

Just a hair’s breathe from a fool’s fall

And a man left a foot is no man at all.

The fanciest outfit you’ll ever find

Ain’t nothin so keep this in mind

If a hand is prone to all kinds of abuses

The outfit is never better than its horses.

Most of the cowboys way back in the day

Worked pretty hard, didn’t have much to say

You don’t understand; there’s reasons for such

To talk low and slow and don’t say too much.

There’s a code for which we all strive

A way of life; it will always survive

One simple thought nothing too grand

If you work for the man, you ride for his brand.

And speakin’ of that, a man with some sand

Will stand his ground and lend a helpin’ hand

When the trail gets rough and things come undone

Remember every trail’s got some puddles son.

A cowboy was taught from cradle to grave

There’s a right and a wrong way to behave

A man is judged not on the things he can buy

Success is the hole he leaves when he dies.

And when a cowboy’s days are done

He finally rides toward the sun

Real cowboys never run

They just simply ride away . . .

A Rancher’s Heart

Land and cattle get in the blood,

You can’t just walk away.

One generation to the next,

It’s sacred to us all.

There’s freedom in the open sky,

Wide prairies