A "Cowpoke's" Woes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Westerns  |  House: Booksie Classic
Hey ole steer, bless your onry soul,

Submitted: February 28, 2007

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Submitted: February 28, 2007

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“Hey ole steer, bless your onry soul,

May not know it, but you have to go.

We’re having a drive, up to Abilene.


And you’re going with us, so it would seem.

Now don’t be that way, and head for the brush,

You don’t want to leave, for the grass is lush.


I’ll have to drag, the ole lariat,

But I’ll sure catch you, you can bet.

It’ll sure make me, feel mighty mean,


Hold on there, you muscled machine!

I’ll loop my rope, around those mighty horns.

Make you dread, the day you was born.


I got you cornered, you ole son,

Won’t do no good, to try to run.


God, those horns, must span sixteen feet.

Not on the ground, I’d like to meet.

What’s that sound, like a chatter box?


A ring tailed rattler, is what I’ve got!

“Easy hoss, don’t buck that tail!

Or in the air, I’ll probably sail!


Now see what you done, running away.


Slapping the dust from my butt, I’ll make you pay!

Oh my Lord!, Not another sound!!

That ole steer’s, apawing the ground!!!

Gonna make a run, at me, that’s clear,

Here’s a tree, I’ll shimmy up here.”


Many a hour, I’ve set this tree,

That ole steer’s still there, aglaring at me.

I’ll be a tale, a laugh at best.


My ole cowpards, will surely jest.

Hey ole steer, there looking so mean.

Guess I was wrong, about Abilene!!!”




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