FOLK COLLECTION 11: The Skaggs Foundation Cowboy Poetry Collection

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Book Title

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Author

Poem Title

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The Poetry of 'Breaker' Morant

FC 11 M-58

Harry 'Breaker' Harbord Morant

Westward Ho!

There's a damper in the ashes, tea and sugar in the bags, There's whips of feed and shelter on the sandridge for the nags.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The North Dakota Fire

Now North Dakota had a library, a thing of pride it was indeed, and they kept it open all day long, in case someone learned to read. Then one fateful day disaster struck,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Old Smeller

Now I lay me down to sleep, beside this big old hairy creep. If he should die before I wake, I'd take it as a lucky break.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Alaska -- No More!

Now Alaska is the place to go, or so once I heard it said, so I up and left Montana, to live up there instead. Well now I am much wiser, and also somewhat older

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Old Pete the Poacher

Now he had trout for breakfast, darn near the whole year through, and he ate a lot of antelope, and deer and elk meat too. Sometimes he had some veal, from a nearby rancher's heard

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Old Truthful Dan

Now old "Truthful" Dan he told me tales, and I'd really listen well, to those fascinating tales he told, as these stories he would tell. Well during the time I was a lad, and he was quite old and gray,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The Hermit

Now this old world ain't fit no more, for ary a man or beast, and a lief lived in the city, is the leastest of the least. Now some might call it "loner,"

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

A Bear Story

Now I have always been a calm one, and I've never been afriad, for I always pack a muzzle loader, and aknife with a ten inch blade. Well one day while hunting rabbits, I came across a bear instead,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Old Lonsome Joe

Now he was called "Old Lonesome Joe", and he lived a long way back, in a place called Lonesome Valley, in his little one room shack.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

A Quick Way to Learn

Now Mom she used to whip us, when at some mischief we were caught, but she'd lay it on uch easier,, if we yelled and screamed a lot.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Old Stupid

Now the boss hired on his nephew, he said he owed his brother one, well brother sure got overpaid when he hired that brother's so. That idiot he was the stupidest hand, that any foreman ever saw,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Numbers Don't Figure

When making up a tally sheet, counting heads will number stock, you don't sell cattle by the herd, or sell sheep by the flock. If sizing up a string of horses, you have to make a count

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

One Final Cure

Now this doctor had went on for ears, giving out potions and pills, for thousands of sore aches and pains, and much more elaborate ills. Well he had wee bits of these cures, in bottles all over the place,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The Road to Town

Now that old road out to the ranch, it needs a little repair, it has some ruts along the way, and a pothole here and there. Now a time or two while riding, I couldn't tell which was which.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Watchdog

Now I thought it might be pretty nice, to have a watchdog on the place, and though I'd never lost a thing, I up and bought one just in case. Well they brought him over to me, while I was out just yesterday,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Just Don't Talk

It seems that I am always wrong, and can never do things right, my wife asks a darn fool question, and we wind up in a fight. Once she came up to me, and raising my arms she slid beneath

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Running Scared

Now my wife she says to me, there's a long and creepy thing, laying up ther eon that rock, right next to the spring. So I we

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Flatlanders

Way down there form our moutains, those flatland slickers dwell, and once I took a trip down there, now I have this tale to t

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

My Old Model T & Me

Now there was a glib tongued peddler, who dealt in Model T's, and I surely was took in by him, and those words of speed and ease. So I traded of fmy old horse ug,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

Convincing Collateral

Now the rancher had a notion, that it was time now to expand, and get a loan for fencing, and more cattle for his land.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

It All Adds Up

Now there was a gunslinger, a real humdinger, who liked to show off his skills, but he was finally shot down, in this small western town, by a lad who came

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The Perfect Breed

We hear a lot on Pitbull dogs, and all about the Terrier, then some prefer the Doberman, or Collie which is hairer.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The Widder

Now old widder Jones was on the prowl, she was aiming to collar a man, so she wailed out her long mating howl, and her quest for her new love began.

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

The Man of the House

Now go get the eggs, and then feed the dogs, and clean out the stalls, and go slop the ogs. Then toss down some hay, and go milk the cow,

Poems by Skinny

FC 11 R-41

Skinny Rowland

"Real" Cowboys?

Now you sure ain't no cowpoke dude, from way out in the west, I sure don't see no big guitar, or sequins on your vest. and you aint got no big white hat,