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Jeff Hull

"When I die, take my saddle from the wall
Put it onto my pony, lead him out of the stall
Tie my bones to the saddle, turn his face toward the West
And we'll ride the prairie that we love the best
Ride around, little dogies, ride around slow
The fiery and the snuffy are a-rarin' to go ..."

I Ride an Old Paint, traditional.

patry Francis

I never met a real cowboy. Thanks for introducing me to one, and making me stop and ponder his life for a moment.

dilys

Thanks Jeff and Patry. Jeff, do you have any source for the music?

And Patry, I just bought a pair of silver platform shoes. I'll do a digital shot, and link to your poem. At accident scenes, a cast-off shoe. Very poignant.

It pleases us here -- Good&Happy, where poets stop to comment!

--Second thought, I'm not going to connect my silver shoes with Patry's image. Just go read his poem.

Jeff Hull

I Ride an Old Paint is a traditional 3-chord cowboy song. I learned it 45 years or so ago off a Burl Ives album. It has been recorded by a number of "folk" singers. It is slow, sad lament. The second verse (I quoted the last one above) goes:

"Old Bill Jones had two daughters and a song
One went to Denver, the other went wrong
His wife, she died in a poolroom fight
But still he keeps on singin', from morning til night -
Ride around, little dogies, ride around slow
The fiery and the snuffy are a-rarin' to go."

Cowboy poetry.

The startling thing about the Old West to me was the compressed timeframe. A way of life sprang up, had its heyday, spawned its legends, and died in the space of 50-60 years or so. The conquest of the West really did not take very long - once it got rolling. My family came to the colonies in 1635, two full centuries before Texas declared its independence. Then, poof! Half the continent was subdued, settled, and civilized.

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