FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection
29769 results found for "No Search Criteria Set"Book Title
Composer
Call #
Pages
Author
Poem Title
First Lines
Keywords
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
29
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Advice
The corrals were full enough to bust And we'd all had our share of dust. But we'd got all the pairs in And the separating was about to begin.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
31
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Town Born
The shiny knobs on the stove all pointed upward in the right direction, the sparkling windows were pulled firmly down against any dirty wind.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
39
Deanna Dickinson McCall
When The Day Is Over
When the shadows fall on the hills and deer tiptoe in to drink The porch beckons quietly inviting us to rest and simply think.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
41
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Barbed Pain
The new Dodge pickup, shiny as a candied apple, slowed as it approached the last curve to the ranch headquarters.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
49
Deanna Dickinson McCall
American Stockman
I have fought many a battle Skirmished over water and feed. Scarred and wounded I start to bleed For my heart is this war's chattel.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
51
Deanna Dickinson McCall
The Wreck
The smell of fear, my stale sweat, horse sweat and cow manure clung to me. I glanced down at my wrinkled, stained clothes, clothes I had worn the day before.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
63
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Sacramento Mountain Spirits
I roam these mountains searching for sign Hoping to find favor from the divine. We paint our pots black and white Grow our maize and crops in sight.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
65
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Snowy Ride
I am cold, colder than a man should be and still be alive. I felt my body begin to draw up into itself hours ago, leaving a physical space between the first of many layers I wear and my tightened skin.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
77
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Cow Country Code
I listened carefully, listened to directions All based on recollections Of cattle last seen, water and grass green.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
81
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Spirit Of Giving
Snow lay in heavy drifts, cedar and juniper trees frosted with thick icing, while icicles hung nearly to the ground from the ranch house roof.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
85
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Prayers
We prayed for rain, prayed for snow, The prayers were but an empty echo Returning to taunt again and again As springs dried and cattle grew thin.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
89
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Elena's Angels
The roan horse nickered softly in recognition as the petite, dark-haired girl approached. It was late afternoon, and the horse had been waiting for the daily ritual.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
107
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Windy Ridge
Up on Windy Ridge I see the Guadalupes rise And watch an eagle soar and glide through azure skies. I see the Cornudas across the grasslands below The Organs' pillars of gray barren rock a dull glow.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
109
Deanna Dickinson McCall
The Mustanger
The old dented pickup truck bounced across the alkaline desert, its outdated stock racks rattling on the bed, followed by a plume of gray-ish white dust the consistency of ash. The dust had become a part of the three men long ago, settling on everything God or man had made in the high desert valley.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
121
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Death At Cornudas
Sick and abandoned, down off Crow Flats She and two boys to live like rats. The worthless man left her there to fend Knowing in his heart she wouldn't ment.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
125
Deanna Dickinson McCall
The Perfect Father
Sunbeams slanted through the dirty windows, forming a halo-like haze around the baby sitting on the kitchen floor and surrounded with dented pots and lids.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
139
Deanna Dickinson McCall
Old Corrals
How many cattle? How many years? How many men? Who were the pioneers That chose this place to gather stock? To pen his herd or flock?
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
141
Deanna Dickinson McCall
The Hired Hand
We made a call to town To have some help sent down. The horses and us were wore out. I even walked like I had gout.
Mustang Spring Stories & Poems
FC 11 M-59
145
Deanna Dickinson McCall
An Education
The classroom was old and warm, with the stale smell of chalk and floor wax. The freshman in the back of the class felt sweat bead on his lip and found it increasingly difficult to sit still.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
3
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Ida's Bread
Ida made bread in a dripper using ten or more pounds of flour. She'd knead it by hand 'til it bounced on the board. It could take her the best part of an hour.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
5
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Forget-me-not
He was a fighter and a gambler, he was bound to end up dead, And he would lead her straight to heartbreak, or so her father said.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
8
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Quilting Party
On porches, in churches, or community halls, in towns with a thousand names, Tables are pushed back to the walls to make room for the rails and frames.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
10
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Eulogy
She married her a cowboy and so she followed where he'd go from Wyoming to Nevada, wherever the wind would blow.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
12
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Why the Cowboys Sing- for Cathy Brian
They haven't asked you why you sing, Though I'm sure they'd like to know Why sometimes you burst into song, Or sing ballads, soft and low.
Old Stories
FC 11 K-26
13
Jo Lynne Kirkwood
Pearl was Always Waiting
On Tuesday and Thursday she'd drive to the crossing, to hear the news and pick up her mail. She'd be waiting, in her dusty white pick-up when we got there, every time. Without fail.