Just got done with a new poem and decided to put it on here. Let me know what you think. I sent it of to my mentor and she made a good suggestion. I goes a lot smoother now. Thanks Beth. As always, read it out loud for the best effect.

This comes from a true account in a book by a Mr Cook who lived on the frontier and came up the trail, guided hunters and the Army. Not a braggart at all, just true accounts of the life he led. I thought the story was entertaining and had never heard of anything like this happening so decided to make it into a poem.

Gettin’ religion

An old man spoke of his life on the plains
here’s the tale he told to me
“I’ve lived a life few men will know
I’ve traveled from sea to sea

I lived at a time where a horse was a friend
and a good one was worth a lot
I’ve forgotten many who served me well
But there is one I’ve never forgot

He was hard and tough, black as night
with a temper like Satan’s own
He would bite and paw and strike for fun
and pitch until I was thrown

I know you’ll think I’m somewhat addled
if you asked my favorite today
“Blackie”, would have to be my reply
I’ll explain, if you’ll hear my say

I was guidin’ for General Crook at the time
Huntin’ ‘Paches down there in the south
Where the rocks bake hot in the sun year around
and the sand, it fills up your mouth

Everytime I saddled that cussed black beast
He’d put up a fight of course
But he packed me in at the end of each ride
Oh, he was a remarkable horse

I prided myself on my riding at the time
I could do what some could not
But “Pride goes before a fall”
Cuz’ it got us in a real tight spot

I was making a short pe’aser one day
searching for ‘Pache sign
When down in the bottom of a desert canyon
slugs and arrows began to whine

Them Indians I had been searching for
why they had been looking for me!
I made a fine target, they all let loose
There were shots from every tree

There we was, right in their sights
they had intentions of cuttin’ my hair
But Blackie was shy, didn’t care for the attention
like a bird he took to the air

He jumped so high, I saw the stars
then he dropped to the bowels of the earth
With a sideways lunge he took off again
but my spurs were stuck in the girth

I was makin’ a ride on the hurricane deck
and it weren’t for no paltry pay
I was ridin’ for my life, quite literally my friend
while I was also learnin’ to pray

With the wild convulsions we two was caught in
we was coverin’ a’plenty a ground
By the time I was assured of making that ride
wasn’t ‘nary an Indian around

We had left them all a half mile back
They’d quit shootin’ to watch our show
Halting their attack towards me and that horse
helped my Christianity to grow

So me an ol’ Blackie skeddadled from there
before they hollered out, “Encore!”
We lit out for parts more friendly for us
less risky for us to explore

There is lots of fellers who can set a horse
and spur and ride through the air
I guess I had more incentive than some
I was ridin’ to save my hair!

So Blackie just has to be rated as tops
another horse, likely I’d be dead
Tho’ he bedeviled and bucked for many more years
he was always well watered and well fed

As you can see he saved my life
Them Indians saw a bronc ride for free
Blackies antics gave us a chance to survive
And helped make a Christian of me

R Dennis 9/07

And on that note, here’s another picture of Case and Spur. My picture wasn’t the best, so I fiddled with it. I don’t think Spur is anything like the horse in the poem. 😉