Cowboy Poetry by Mike Meaux

Mike Meaux, Meeker, Colorado saddle maker, is also a seasoned cowboy.  He says all his poems are about real life places and incidents that he has seen in his career as cowboy and horse trainer.

970-272-3293
P.O. Box 70 
54060 Hwy. 318
Maybell, CO  81640.

---

"TOO AMBITIOUS"

He came to help us gather strays.
At least that was the plan.
He let us know without delay
That he was sure a hand.
He had these feathers in his hat.
They almost seemed to glow.
And brand new spurs on top of that.
Their purpose, he must know.
We walked on down to the corral,
To pick the perfect mount.
The buckskin horse would be his pal.
At least on this he’d count.

He saddled up and cinched up tight.
Then down the drive they sped.
Out of control? Perhaps a might.
They headed for the shed.
The buckskin knew what he must do,
To get rid of this goof.
A duck, a jump or maybe two.
He threw him on the roof.
The kid did bounce across the tin.
Our hearts all skipped a beat.
And when we thought it all would end,
He landed on his feet.

The buckskin didn’t run away.
He kinda liked this sort,
and knew that this would be his day.
This ride would be real short.
The kid eased up and nabbed the rein.
He’d show us one more thing.
He grabbed the horn, forgot the pain,
and up there he did swing.

Before his bottom hit the seat,
Ol’ Buck began to spin.
Before the stirrups found his feet,
the kid was off again.
To save this kid from certain death,
For he had run amok.
The cowboss said with one quick breath,
"Hey kid! You drive the truck."

Copyright Michael Meaux 1977

Lost Park

Let me tell you of this place
Where peace and quiet reign
And gentle breezes touch your face
To make you smile again.

In this place of solitude
The senses come alive.
There is no loud, there is no rude,
I pray it will survive.

The Aspen quaking in the breeze
As rain begins to fall,
The elk are easing thru the trees
And I can see it all.

The morning sun will soon arise
To warm another day.
For now, the stars light up the skies
In their own special way.

Of course not all would care to see
The wonder of this place,
And that is surely fine with me,
They’re caught up in "the race".

He may not see it on my face,
I know He hears my voice.
To thank The Maker for this place,
This is my church of choice.

copyright Michael Meaux 1999

THE BARE NECESSITIES

They walked in grinnin’ ear to ear,
With another tale to tell.

Ol’ Pete and Slim been here for years.
They knew this country well.

They’d gathered up the neighbors' strays,
Out near the old line shack.

Was just another of them days,
Until that calf turned back.

The two old timers knew to wait.
That calf would soon return.

But that new kid, who tested fate,
Had lessons yet to learn.

He busted out on that green colt,
And built himself a loop.

With his first swing the colt would bolt.
He didn’t know the scoop.

He caught the calf in this attack,
As they went flying by.

But when that colt ran out of slack,
He pitched the kid sky high.

The cactus patch would take its toll,
When on the ground he lit.

All thru the patch this poor kid rolled.
It pained him now to sit.

He picked and pulled the needles out,
Without too much success.

They filled his clothes, there is no doubt.
He truly was a mess.

I’ll make this story short and sweet.
The kid would walk a while,

With just his packers on his feet,
And nothing else but a smile.

          copyright Michael Meaux 1997