Read online or download a free book: Wild Horses: Volume 1 (Cowboy Poems)
Publisher: CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform: 4 edition (13 April 2013)
By: Ron Gale (Author, Illustrator)
Book format: pdf doc docx mobi djvu epub ibooks (*An electronic version of a printed book that can be read on a computer or handheld device designed specifically for this purpose.)
Cowboy poems about 13 year old boy “:Ropin’: a moose, “:At a loggin’: camp up in the Highwood Range, Where I worked as a kid: I tried to arrange: My thoughts on loggin’:, and of cowboyin’: and such. I worked there at loggin’:, while keepin’: in touch, With the cowboy aspects: of usin’: my rope: On anythin’: movin’: with ever a hope, Of me catchin’: a critter, a dog, or a cat, Or a chicken, a mouse, or even a bat. One mornin’: while ridin’: along on my horse, I heard a slight noise, and I spotted the source, A big old cow moose wandered up close into view. So I flipped out my rope: and I caught her too…:…:…:…:…:…:…:.’: About a young boy coming in contact with a large grizzly bear on a one way trail: “:Ridin’: by myself on a narrow goat trail, On the side of a mountain where rocks prevail. The trail was narrow with a hundred foot drop, On the near horse side as we’:re nearin’: the top. Around a sharp bend I came right face to face, With a grizzly bear who halted my pace. My horse was shakin’:: not the only one scared. I had no rifle and I wasn’:t prepared…:…:…:…:…:…:.’:About starting a wild curly gelding: “:The sun was about to crest the far horizon on a fresh Alberta morn’:. As I tacked up a “:wildy”: curly gelding, with a saddle not ‘:for worn. He was a North American Curly caught wild on the plains. As a six year old he was caught and gelded and now to use his brains. He stood there like a trooper as I cinched him up a mite. I took him for a tiny walk ‘:for I pulled it kind’:er tight…:…:…:…:…:..’: About a young lad being snowed in at a cow camp on Christmas Eve: “:In an old line shack, way out in the back, I’:m a dreamin’: of Christmas chuck. Out where there’:s some gells and those Christmas bells. But snow bound right in here I’:m stuck. The cold North winds cry, while the drifts grow high. And the flame is blazing higher. I do realize there are no supplies, As I stoke up the blazing fire. ‘: About cowboys and a biker crew fight: “:We’:re traveling slow as we chanced to go to a small town out in The West. And it was right there that Jake and “:The”: Bear were to prove they were the best. Now Jake and “:The”: Bear, a team ropin’: pair, and this small town had a meet. Before we got down to this little town we figured we’:d better eat. But then parked not far from that tiny bar: was a dozen bikers sat there. I then tried to hide all my fear inside as tension filled up the air. And the tension grew as the biking crew got to shovin’: their weight ‘:round. And just then I said “:Before we’:re all dead let’:s find some other new ground.”: But, as was our fate, it was just too late: their leader, a brute’: of a guy. All dressed up in black, and there on his back, were the words that said…:…:…:…:…:…:…:…:.’: About a cowhand (A lady cowgirl): “:Ya! I saw the cowhand smack the riggin’: onto that old bronco’:s back. I had a strong and hunchy feeling: That, right there, I’:d seen the knack. ‘: About a calf roping in the rain: “:At a rodeo at Barrhead, when I was livin’: the life, On a little white mare that belonged to my wife. On a day that the weather could change at the drop of a hat: The Alberta weather can surely get like that. I rode in and I entered the box on that memorable day, In an arena where footing was sand and clay. The weather was sure unpromisin’: with the lightnin’: and all, As I backed up in the box and made it my call…:…:…:…:.’: All these poems and many, many more during part of the life of Ron Gale.
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