Cowboy Poetry for Sale

By Richard Mousseau

Legendary cowboy, Cheeks-Too-Soft relaxes in semi-retirement on the porch of a weathered old barn-board cabin to reminisce on the life of being a cowboy. From a book of collections of cowboy poetry, Cheeks will recite tales of adventure, love, lost love, dreams and the wide open spaces of riding to the next round up, the next meal and bedding down by a warm fire. Drop by, sit awhile, drift into the mystic essence of a cowboy-cowgirl’s world. Everyone can be a cowboy-cowgirl or dream of being a part of the lifestyle of the men and women that created the western ensemble.
Quotes:
I was chocking on the dust and humour of the poems that give a realistic and a romantic twist to the cowboy life.
I laughed myself silly, then a poem came along that twisted emotions into my heart that tears blur my eyes no matter how often I reread.
A collection of cowboy poetry for everyone from intellectuals to children and men that never read, to a house wife like me that needs a short poem to boost happiness, thank you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Moose Hide Books imprint of Moose Enterprise Publishing
• Release date: Feb 17, 2017
• ISBN: 9781927393024

Book preview

Cowboy Poetry for Sale

COWBOY POETRY FOR SALE

COWBOY POETRY FOR SALE

By

RICHARD MOUSSEAU

A.K.A.

MR. CHEEKS-TOO-SOFT

MOOSE HIDE BOOKS

Imprint of

MOOSE ENTERPRISE PUBLISHING

Prince Twp.,

ONTARIO, CANADA

Cover illustration by Patricia Trudeau

COWBOY POETRY FOR SALE

By

Richard Mousseau

Copyright January 1, 2012

Published June 1, 2012

by

MOOSE HIDE BOOKS

imprint of

MOOSE ENTERPRISE PUBLISHING

684 WALLS ROAD

PRINCE TOWNSHIP

ONTARIO, CANADA

P6A 6K4

web site www.moosehidebooks.com

NO VENTURE UNATTAINABLE

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, NO PART OF THIS BOOK MAY BE REPRODUCED, THIS INCLUDES STORING IN RETRIEVAL SYSTEM OR TRANSMITTED IN ANY FORM BY ELECTRONIC MEANS, MECHANICAL, PHOTOCOPYING, RECORDING OR OTHER, WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THIS PUBLISHER.

THIS BOOK IS A WORK OF FICTION, NAMES, CHARACTERS, PLACES AND INCIDENTS ARE EITHER PRODUCTS OF THE AUTHOR’S IMAGINATION OR ARE USED FICTITIOUSLY. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO ACTUAL EVENTS OR LOCALES OR PERSONS, LIVING OR DECEASED, IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL.

CREATED IN CANADA

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Poems

Includes Index.

Issued in print and electronic formats.

ISBN 978-1-927393-01-7(pbk.). - -ISBN 978-1-927393-02-4(pdf)

I.Title.

PS8576.0977C68 2012C813’.54C2012-901783-3

C2012-901784-1

COWBOY POETRY FOR SALE

INDEX

1)     A Cowboy’s Lullabypg-67

2)     A Plough Horsepg-44

3)     Ballad of Stuttering Slim Jim Sarnspg-23

4)     Canadian Cowboypg-70

5)     Cowboy Christmaspg-15

6)     Farm Salepg-9

7)     Forsake Me Notpg13

8)     Goose Down Sleeping Bagpg10

9)     Homestead Homepg-7

10) Horny Moosepg-49

11) Horse Traderpg-19

12) Hound Dogpg-41

13) Log Cabin Dreamspg-17

14) Lonely is the Heartpg-50

15) Lonesome Callpg-33

16) Lopez and Juarezpg-20

17) Mail Order Bridepg-54

18) Miss Anitapg-28

19) Mulespg-42

20) Oak Rocking Chairpg-62

21) Pigpg-43

22) Pioneer Womenpg-46

23) Rememberingpg-8

24) Remind Me not to Forgetpg-65

25) Sanora’s Siestapg-48

26) Sister Evangelinapg-58

27) Slim Pickingspg-30

28) Super Timepg-68

29) Weathered Boardspg-5

30) Week Old Souppg-36

COWBOY POETRY FOR SALE

WEATHERED BOARDS

Old, dry and weathered I may seem.

Once upon a time my walls did gleam.

My belly supported by an oak beam,

the result of my builder’s dream.

From fir trees in abundance came floors.

Planks on steel hinges became doors.

A coat of white-wash I proudly wore.

Stock and grain within, a harvest I store.

Tall, young and proud I bravely stood.

Constructed of enduring Canadian wood.

Bitter winds and April rains I withstood.

Layers of cedar shakes capped my hood.

The winter of eighty-nine dispersed,

wind and bitter cold, a freezing curse.

Walls shuttered ready to burst.

I held strong fearing the worst.

Pigeons roost in rafters arched high.

Hay below my roof stayed nice and dry.

On animals below I kept a watchful eye.

Wind through wall planks hummed a lullaby.

Winter gave way to spring, no worse for wear.

Those winter winds at cedar shingles did tear.

Into warm weather enter animals with a cheer.

All, said to me, they had no worrisome fear.

Those days of youth have long passed by.

My belly is empty, sometimes wanting to cry.

With aches and pains my shutters give sigh.

On mournful days, I sometimes wonder, oh why.

Fields of spring wheat are fields of neglect.

Foundations are weak, infested by insects.

Gone is the coat of red paint, used to protect.

Of those wholesome days of need, I reflect.

A homestead family abandoned their dream.

Belly ribs slump beneath a weakened beam.

Dry weathered walls have lost their gleam.

For unknown reasons, I stand, alone it seems.

A hundred years have passed and yet I stand,

alone and forsaken resting on untilled land.

A stranger happens by with an artist brush in hand.

I display a century of age, feeling somewhat grand.

THE END

HOMESTEAD HOME

By callused hands logs are stacked.

Mud and grass chinked into cracks.

Interlocked corners fit like a glove.

Earthen sod laid for a roof above.

Close grew wild prairie grass.

Shutter openings without glass.

Red river clay for a floor.

Wooden pins held a door.

Fields furrowed in singled rows.

A vegetable garden tenderly sowed.

Nearby a milk cow and calf rest.

In low rafters chickens nest.

In a wilderness, a living is torn.

A family’s homestead is born.

One by one children arrive.

Fattened on bounty they thrive.

Years pass as the family grew.

Buildings rise larger and new.

A first abode grows weathered and old.

Stories of a first home are proudly told.

THE END

REMEMBERING

Shivering through a cold winter day,

smell the sweetness of stored hay.

Hear the tap of a woodpecker’s beak,

and a barn door’s constant squeak.

Hear a worried mother’s moo at night,

calling for a