Cougar Competition

What's he thinkin', that old cat?
Sure looks big from where I'm at.
Crouchin' on that big flat boulder,
Boy! What muscles in that shoulder.

Eyes a glarin', tail a twichin'
Now I see what's got him itchin'
In that gulch way down below,
It's that big buck and that fine doe.

They're feedin' slowly up this way.
He thinks he'll have a feast today.
he's in the crosshairs of my sights.
I've got that cougar dead to rights.

But he's not what I'm after now.
I want them trophy antlers, wow!
Of course, he doesn't know I'm here
So he's not plagued by any fear.

The breeze is facin' me today,
And he's not apt to look this way.
So I'll just wait and so will he.
We'll see who wins it, him or me.

A trophy is my only whim,
Survival is the task for him.
then suddenly up in the sky,
A blue jay gives his warning cry.

He sailed on down toward the deer,
To let them know that harm was near.
then quick as scat this buck and doe,
Rushed in to cover down below.

And as I looked back to the right,
The cat was slipping out of sight.
Good luck had failed to come our way,
So each would try another day.

The Cry of the Coyote

You are riding alone in the cold crisp air
And the darkness has gathered around everywhere.
You're heading for home after riding all day,
With your reins held slack, as your horse knows the way.

Then off on a hill top not far away
There's a wild little wolf that has something to say.
It's Mr. Coyote who soon will be heard.
His message he gives though he speaks not a word.

A few short barks and staccato yaps
That startle your horse and rattle your chaps.
And following this a sharp shrill cry
That tingles your spine and pierces the sky.

The cry fades off with a mournful wail.
That tugs at your heart as you plod down the trail.
Then soon he is joined by a friend or two
And it seems the whole pack begins singing for you.

There's something about the coyote's cry
That captures your thoughts and you wonder why.
It seems to tell of the hunger and woes
That follow this creature wherever he goes.

Hated and hunted and poisoned and trapped,
Driven and chased, he's been forced to adapt.
With his cunning and wits to keep him alive
No matter what's happened he's learned to survive.

He's a thief and a robber, so I've been told.
He'll steal your chickens and your lambs from the fold.
But it somehow always gives me a thrill
When coyote's cry on a nearby hill.

Poker Chip

Exploding from the barrier
He thunders down the track.
Old Poker Chip is on the calf,
Dale Smith is on his back.

Dale drops the loop around its neck,
With measured skill and zest.
Then swings, preparing to dismount,
Old Poker does the rest.

He dumps the calf, but not too harsh,
Just rolls it on it's back.
Dale rushes down to tie it's feet,
Old Poker Tightens slack.

This scene repeated o'er and o'er,
A champion horse, a champion man.
Two superstars are at their peak.
Now top this combo if you can.

This man and horse has pleased the crowds
At countless rodeos.
They've won top money far and wide,
As every roper knows.

At last Old Poker's days are done.
His body brought to rest,
On a hill at the Cowboy Hall of Fame,
Where only lies the best.

And somewhere in the "great beyond,"
Wherever horses go,
Where calves go skipping through the clouds
Old Poker's there, I know.

With head held high and flashing eye,
He roams some misty shore.
Just waiting there for Dale to come,
To rid and rope once more.

The Chicken Hearted Sparrow

Chicken hearted? Well, what a great shame.
For a poor little sparrow to have such a name.
They're timid and nervous enough at the start
Without being stuck with a mere chicken heart.

But wait just a minute, we maybe don't dig,
The heart of a chicken is four times as big.
A sparrow equipped with a pump like that,
Has rocket thrust at the drop of a hat.

He's four times as strong and four times as bold.
he's harder to catch and he's harder to hold.
And this wee sparrow had a goal in life,
He thought he should have a hen for a wife.

But a big red rooster stood right in his way,
He flapped his great wings and he crowed all day.
If this display wasn't bad enough,
The hens all thought he was just the stuff.

The sparrow remarked as he sat on a twig,
That red feathered rooster is not so big,
And on of these days when the time is right,
I'll challenge that fowl to a showdown fight.

Cause I am the greatest and he'll find out
I'm mighty on punch, and loaded with clout.
I'll flit like a sparrow and sting like a bee,
I'll whop that old rooster, you just wait and see.

Well the time soon came for trusting his luck,
He mustered all of his courage and pluck.
He met that old rooster and stood eye to eye.
And said, "Cock-a-doodle, get ready to die."

Then the cock flapped his wings with a lusty beat,
And blew that sparrow about ten feet.
But the bird returned, and this is a fact,
He landed on top of that rooster's back.

He hooked his claws in the feathered neck,
And the big red comb, he began to peck.
He pecked and slashed and chewed and bit,
And the big red rooster was having a fit.

He raced around in a frenzied flight,
And the hens all cackled in great delight.
It was fun to see their boastful beau,
Had met his match in so small a foe.

The wee little bird continued to peck,
And blood trickled down the big rooster's neck.
He knew it was time for him to give in,
So he promised the sparrow his favorite hen.

The sparrow accepted, but to his surprise,
When he saw her close up she was too huge in size.
So, declining the offer, he made up his mind
It would be far better to choose his own kind.

But he warned the old rooster to never forget,
That he was the boss or he'd finish him yet.
So this is the tale I am pleased to impart
Of the poor little sparrow with the big chicken heart.

Horse Talk

A horse can't talk, I know you'll say.
But I know this fellow, whose name is Ray.
He reads my thoughts and writes them down.
No doubt, I'm the luckiest horse in town.

The tale I'll tell in the next short while,
Is about my owner Linden Dial.
He has cared for me since I was foaled.
And now I am well past four years old.

He's taught me everything I know.
Like, when to stop and when to go.
He taught me to lead and broke me to ride.
To perform for him, is my greatest pride.

But a funny thing happened a short time back
We had been for a ride and were coming back.
It was sunny and warm on the rocky trail.
The rest were ahead, we were riding tail.

Then all of a sudden, to my surprise,
A strange thing happened before my eyes.
The boss took a dive and shock of shocks
He landed head first in a pile of rocks.

And there I stood, as still as could be.
I figured for certain they'd all blame me.
But all they had heard was some moans and groans
And saw him stacked in a pile of stones.

It was lucky for me they all understood,
That I wouldn't hurt my boss, if I could.
But I hope when he next makes a diving head stand,
he will seek for a bit softer place for to land.

Bull Moose

Bull moose grazing on lush marsh grass
Raises his head when he sees you pass.
But while you watch don't go too near
This ponderous monarch has no fear.

To keep your distance he will demand.
Three-fourths of a ton at his command.
So hide and listen and you may hear
As he bugles his mate to bring her near.

Few are his enemies in the wild,
Who dare to attack and get him riled.
The bold advance of a hungry wolf
Can end in death with a strike of his hoof.

Though he may appear clumsy, don't be misled,
If you get in his way you may wind up dead.
So enjoy his presence with space in between,
Don't get him stirred up, cause he's just too mean!

The Water Hole

The sun hung low in the African sky;
The water hole mirrored its light from on high.
A mangy old lion limped haltingly in;
He was almost blind and was stiff, weak and thin.

Once he was young with strength and skill,
And he was the one who made the kill.
For many years he had ruled the pride,
But now he was old and they forced him aside.

The kills were controlled by the young and strong,
And to get what was left he waited long.
His chance to survive grew slimmer each day.
If he wanted to live he must find a new way.

Experience had taught him a trick or two.
There was one thing left that he might do.
Down by the water hole he could wait
Where a beast of prey might come in late.

One that was crippled and old as he,
That he might catch before it could flee.
Surely enough as he hid in the grass
The thing he hoped for had come to pass.

The antelope here had watered and gone
But a grizzled old buck had lingered on.
He had waited a distance away from the throng
Lest he might suffere from antler and prong.

The buck came cautiously up to the pool,
Lowered his head to the water cool.
Then seeing the lion move stealthier near
He galloped away in panic and fear.

Soon he had reached the top of his speed
But a sharp little dip he neglected to heed.
He stumbled, then flipped and broke his neck
And thus he ended his brief little treck.

The lion had leaped, then he groaned with a start;
A long pointed antler had punctured his heart.
Then suddenly all was quiet about;
The balance of nature again cancelled out.