20 FOOT ROPE, 30 FOOT TREE
By Donna Penley
T’was time for th’ annual Leukemia Trail Ride,
Sam was to be th’ Trail Boss. In this he took much pride.
So Sam an’ his sidekick Carl went out early to th’ grounds;
To make some preparations. Firewood must be found,
‘Cause one of th’ highlights of th’ ride was t’ sit around a fire,
Tellin’ stories an’ half truths -- of which no one ever tired.
So those two cowboys saddled up t’ go in search of wood;
A blazin’ campfire was a must. That was understood.
After ridin’ out awhile they came to an old dead tree;
Large enough t’ last th’ camp one night, or two. Maybe evem three.
Carl said, “Let’s rope ‘er up real high, then we can pull ‘er down.
You climb up, Sam, an’ tie ‘er tight. Then we can dally ‘round.”
So. Sam, he climbed up in that tree an’ tied th’ rope real tight;
T’ one of th’ highest branches. He stretched with all his might.
Sam shinnied down out of that tree an’ climbed aboard his mount;
Said, “Let’s tie on hard. Let’s not dally. t’ make our pullin’ count”.
They tied on hard an’ urged their horses t’ lean into th’ ropes;
A couple o’ pulls should of done it -- at least that’s what they’d hoped!
The horses gathered an’ hunkered down -- horse power did not lack;
After their third gut-wrenching’ lunge, th’ tree gave with a mighty crack.
Neither cowboy had a clue, what would happen as that tree fell --
Th’ ropes were shorter than th’ tree, an’ it whipped them all t’ hell.
It knocked their hats from off their heads. Their horses squalled an’ pranced;
At th’ whippin’ they was takin’ from th’ topmost bough an’ branch.
Th’ commotion went on quite a spell -- until th’ tree lay still;
Both cowboys looked at one another, not knowin’ how t’ feel.
“You alright, Carl?” Sam asked as he broke into a grin;
“I think so, Sam”, Carl answered, blood drippin’ from his chin.
“I ain’t hurt bad”, he said. “It’s just a little cut.”
Sam felt a breeze blow though his levi’s. They were split across the butt.
Then Sam spoke with voice so quiet it scarcely could be heard;
“Well, that taught me a lesson. I sure feel like a nerd!
I’ll make a deal with ya, Carl -- I tell ya what, ol’ Son --
Let’s keep this fiasco to ourselves -- an’ not tell
Protected by Copyright
Donna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer.
From game show to sanctuary, animals and children get second chance (Wichita Eagle Article and Video)