While I roll myself a quirly why don't you hunker down a spell
and I'll tell you 'bout my troubles 'bout my cows too thin to sell.
It all started with a few dry years and the cricks all goin' dry
with the air all hot and dusty -- not a cloud up in the sky.
Then I ran short of money so I couldn't buy no more hay
and the bank stopped all my credit, cause they knew I couldn't pay,
so my cattle looked for other grass and they busted through a fence;
then they ate the hay my neighbor had (that's just plain ole common sense)
but my neighbor had a sixgun, and he was mad at only me,
but I was just a mite shade faster, so I shot him, don't you see?
Now I'm down here in this jail cell and tomorrow I will hang --
my fate decided by a herd of cows who don't really give a dang --
so, if you're thinkin' about ranchin', let me give it to you plain:
It's not the life if you don't gamble, bettin' on tomorrow's rain.

"Carol, Here it's Saturday, bored stiff, and I thought I might at least brighten up somebody else's day, so here is another dumb ole cowboy poem for you. Snicker and guffaw all you want, it's allowed."

My instructor stood awaitin' sweepin' flies off with his tail --
he'd do his ornery best today to see if I would fail.
He was just a mangy cayuse but a hero on the range.
What he could do, when he wanted to, looked mighty weird and strange...
He could turn his belly to the sun while flyin' to the moon;
He gave his student all he had and never quit too soon.
From all sides he could get you, he could bite and he could kick.
Just thinkin' what that hoss could do could make a cowboy sick!
I knew I had to ride him. I had to for my pride;
with the other hands awatchin' there was no place to hide.
So I had a waddie chew his ear while I climbed upon his back,
and then I grabbed some leather while I awaited his attack.
At first he crowhopped just a bit, and I thought, this ain't so bad...
but then his back curved up a mile and I knew that I'd been had.
He switched his ends so mighty fast, and he gave a tricky twist;
the horn came up and met my gut and felt like a solid fist.
I knew I was still ridin' and a Yahoo left my mouth,
but then he started headin' North while I was headed South.
So now he had me flyin' and he could take a rest
while I made a dusty landin', but I knew I done my best.
I'd learned a lesson here today, from a bronc so wild and true:
Learnin' flyin' can be fun...but that landin's hard to do.
So, if you're into broken bones and joints that snap and pop --
Just climb aboard that wild cayuse for your flyin' lesson hop.

Bob may be new to the net, but judging from the works he submitted to CowPokin' Fun, it's clear that this fella's one cowhand that's been there.

Bob goes on to say he writes "a lot of cowboy poetry, some funny, some sad, and some just flatout true, because a lot of folks have no idea what cowboying is all about. I started when almost twelve by breaking a little mustang, bareback, cause I couldn't afford a saddle and surplus McClellans were selling at the hardware store for $25. My first real job was working on a horse ranch in 1944, and I earned $20 a month and keep for riding 5 to 8 horses a day, but only for seven days a week, so a good deal. After that I worked as wrangler, horsebreaker, posthole digger, wire stretcher, and manure picker upper until Uncle Sam got me.

"I write a lot. A lot of military poems too, because I needed to cleanse my soul of a lot of pain, but the cowboy poetry is a joy to me, so here's one more for you.

Just Plain Happy

I'm just an old cowboy
I'm no longer young
but there's land to be looked at
and songs to be sung
I've seen the high country
all the flowers in bloom
I've seen this country
with plenty of room
I've looked for the beauty
in the things that I see
the sunset in evening
just does things for me
the feel of old leather
the smell of new hay
a hot cup of coffee
at the start of the day
the jingle of spurs
the creak of a saddle
the wind through the trees
the sound of the cattle
good boots on my feet
and my ole Stetson hat
those are my comfort
and I'm grateful for that
Yeah, I may be old
and rich I am not...
but I'm one happy cowboy
for the things that I've got

Bob now has his own homepage: LCDR Bob Prinselaar, USCG (ret) Home Page
He also says he'd love from you, so feel free to email him. rjpcgp@pacbell.net

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