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First Cowboy Poetry Post


Range Education- Dale Parker

On this western range on which we ride,
There’s a code of the West, by which we abide.
You wait at the gate for all to mount up,
And ya take off yer hat, when you set down to sup.
You never saddle, another man’s hoss,
And you never…never…ride in front of the boss!

One Fall we’d hired an Eastern lad,
Without the range knowledge that we all had.
Ol’ Percy had heart, and plenty of try,
But there was parts of our range code, he failed to apply.

We trotted out one mornin’, headed for the back side,
And way out in front, ol’ Percy did ride.
The wagon boss was steamin, at this flagrant violation,
And we knew for sure there’s gonna be some educatin’.

In the boss’s saddle was a flat brown flask,
And for poisonin’ gophers it was up to the task.
It smelled like a polecat, that’d been three days shot,
And if you spilled any on ya, it got mighty hot!

Well the boss rode up behind ol’ Percy’s horse,
And he pulled out that bottle as a matter of course.
Without Percy knowin’, he poured it on the pony’s tail,
And the wreck that ensued, was Percy’s travail.

That pony piled him high, and Percy climbed back aboard,
But the juice on his tail caused some discord.
And before we could tell if he’d figured it out or not,
Ol’ Percy took off again…right out in front.

Well the boss poured on another application,
As part of ol’ Percy’s range education.
An’ by the time we caught up to their dance on the plain,
We’d seen another wreck, and the result was the same.

Well the third time’s the charm, at least that’s the old sayin’
And we knew with a third dose, the fiddler he’d be payin’!
Then the boss popped the cork, and slung a little splash,
But ol’ Percy jumped off, as his pony made a dash.

Well the boss rode up and said, “Percy what’s the matter?
You’re broncos a bucking, and your hat’s a gettin’ flatter.”
Percy stood there red-faced, with his nose just a twitchin’,
An said,…“Last time he smelled like that, he just lit into pitchin’!”

My favorite Cowboy Poetry:


Sir Charles deMouton-Black:
I'm trying to find a poem "Portugee Phillips Ride".  Any help?

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