With his boss, boss's son and dog named Dale.
The crew and kine moved, without moo, bark or word,
Easy, somber and slow down the trail.
A few dark clouds gathered and a chill filled the air
And the old cowboy pulled tight his serape.
The foreman pulled his hat low on his hair
But the young feller yelled at his pappy.
"I ain't paid for this crap and won't ride in a cyclone!"
Though no drops yet smote critter nor cowhand.
"We'll all die from lightning, damp butt and cold bone,
Or from drowning here, miles from plowed land."
The foreman said "Son..." but the boy kept on cussing
And Dale yipped for agreement or fun.
Coyotes yelped back, and the cows started fussing,
'Til some choice words put them to the run.
The trail was a tempest, though rain never came down,
The foreman was kilt trying to turn the stampede.
The boy fired his pistol trying to reach dad on the ground
'Til a bad shot dropped him from his steed.
Dale found a new home where they preach the LORD's glory,
And tend to his comfort and spirit.
The old man's still riding and telling this story
And it's funnier each time you hear it.
A line was cut off, a cowherd was lost,
There's a lesson, if you're willing to barter:
Pour me some whiskey, and I'll tally the cost
Of mist on the cheek of a martyr.
STAMPEDE, n. The disagreeable in harmony.
Well, I beat the stampede and am first! FIRST!!!!!!
bad things happen when people jump the gun ;)
I am glad the dog is ok, though!
stampede,n. the rush of impluse
At least Dale found a good, Christian home.
Bless his canine heart.
That is a fun, yet mildy disturbing poem.. with the death and all. I'm assuming the boy was kilt as well after falling off his horse and since Dale was gived away. I'm envisioning death by stampede after he fell from his horse.
Hmmmm... death by stampede... I've never seen that depicted in a horror film.
I like the last part...There's a a lesson, if you're willing to barter: Pour me some whiskey, and I'll tally the cost Of mist on the cheek of a martyr.
Quilly is something. Glad she sent me to your blog!
Stampede: 10 days of cowboys, rodeo, beer (sometimes free) and free pancake breakfasts. Yeehaw!
Fantastic poem. I like poems about guns and whiskey.
'Tis the season for the annual stampede to the mall. NPR says spending on consumer goods is down and spending on gasoline is up. Hello?
And it seems I missed your birthday. Sigh. Let's blame Cuba.
So Happy Belated Birthday!
40 huh? Wow. Old. I guess you can get rid of that "early-onset" before curmudgeon now.
I'm with Jenn, both on the rodeo (Calgary Stampede) and the belated birthday wishes.
Happy birthday my friend. Now don't you go tellin' the young'uns that it ain't so bad on the other side of 40! They'll be stampeding over the hill to join us!! :-)
You are that man, aren't you? I liked your story, and happily pour you some whiskey.
Young men can make even the promise of a cyclon deathly, I heard about that. Your poem reminded me of Bierce's short novel, "Jupiter Doke, Brigadier-General".
I mean, when I hear the word "stampede", that short novel comes to my mind.
"Not so loud, dude, you'll frighten the dogies."
"What doggies? You ain't gonna cow me, dude."
"No way, dude, I'm just tryin' to steer you out of trouble. What are you doing, anyway?"
"Sending mail, dude. What's it look like?"
"With your feet?"
"41 cents a lick. The Post Office should try it. Save a whole lot of wear and tear on the wrist."
"Yech. Don't send me no letters, dude."
"Hey. They're just bills."
Miz B, I thought those were hooves.
Minka, every excitement is a mini stampede.
Nope, JD. You have to watch westerns or listen to Utah Carroll.
Thanks, Annette. Quilly's indeed good peoples.
Jenn, I know when the Calgary Stampede's in town because I see you on CNN.
Quilly, that's diligent reporting, isn't it?
¡Pinche Cuba, Jenn! (cussing is ok in Spanish, I sez) y gracias.
Kyah, I can't even get my dad to join me.
Ariel, I haven't read it. I just might this evening. Thank you!
Great dialog, Amoeba.
Why did I think you were 40 last year? Because you're so mature
I gave you an award. As you use words at a genius level, and for more reasons I will explain in January when I will give the first and last Courting's.
Don't rush in the stampede to get it :)
Happy belated birthday
Caint hep it - stampedin makes me think of Utah Carol
Did you write that son? Pretty good.
Mighty good saw Dale...er Dawg.
Stampede: A creepy post office with a lot of legs
Poor dog. Too bad he did't live the life of Ambrose or Adi.
Would you rather be run down by a stampede or an avalanche?
Exactly, Pia. I function a whole year ahead.
Me too, Terry. Note my comment to Jamie Dawn. Good of you to provide the lyrics to those who can't sing 'em by heart.
Thanks, TLP. Just don't call me late to supper.
OE, you secret agents are creative punsters. Must be the code talking.
The theoretical one, Jim.
It's why I'm usually last - avoiding the daily stampede to Waking Ambrose.
All t hose disagreeables trying to get here first. ;)
*raises limp arm after regaining conciousness/sits up after spending night on the floor/shakes head*
you have no way of knowing and/or believing this, but i coulda been first to comment on this post, were it not for the fact i was knocked down by a number of anxious-yet-aggressive -- and yes i lovelovelove 'em all, but jeez, Louise, watch where you're goin' -- bloggers!
not kidding. ; )
Cooper, bring the harmony later.
Pah, Miz B
Neva, that's why you should blog armed.
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