June 9, 2023 was the finals for the State of Kansas Cowboy Poetry Contest that was held at the Flint Hills Discovery Center in Manhattan, Kansas. There were two division of poetry; Serious and Humorous. There were 17 cowboy and cowgirl poets from three states who were set to battle it out with spinning of yarns that rhymed. First place in the Serious division was Kye Rieff from Missouri and First place in the Humorous division was Mary Powell, that’s right, little ole me! I also got 3rd place in the Serious division with my Prairie Song poem. Best yet was that the winners got two free tickets to the Symphony on the Flint Hills, on June 10th and the opportunity to perform after the Symphony at the story circle, which was right beside the path that people took to head back across the prairie to their vehicles. We had a captive audience. I also had a photo opportunity with cowboy musician Jeff Davidson, Kansas Secretary of Agriculture Mike Beam and Ron Wilson, Kansas Poet Lariat (not laureate) .
So what is so big about cowboy poetry? Well it is a far cry from the poetry that sophisticated people listen to in the coffee houses that drum up ideas of the 1070’s flower child poetry about injustice, hate and love. Cowboy poetry is story put to rhyme that is either serious in nature or humorous. Mainly it is about life and those of us who perform cowboy poetry have lots of stories to tell about life, cowboy work, farming, and an occasional political comment. The fun is in the rhyme and presentation…that’s right it is performance poetry. Storyteller are really what the poets are but add the rhyme and the poetry fun begins. Great cowboy poets like the late Baxter Black, made cowboy poetry a thing when he and Waddie Mitchell performed on Johnny Carson.
Cowboy poetry can have you gasping for air when you are laughing so hard your ribs hurt or it can bring tears to your eyes or twinge your heart. It is a small genre of poetry that has a long history of cowboys in the 1800’s who turned many of the poems into songs we know as cowboy music, after all, that is what a song is, poetry put to music.
There are Cowboy Poetry Gatherings that occur across the country and the biggest is at Elko, Nevada. Several are in the Pacific Northwest, Southwest, Texas and Oklahoma. Kansas used to have a National Cowboy Poetry Rodeo but the rights were sold a few years back and it moved out west. I am trying to organize a Gathering for September 29-30th, 2023 at Fredonia, Kansas that is in conjunction with the Wilson County Old Iron Days Celebration that is September 27-30th. We want to have a contest and hand out belt buckles for the poets but we also want to invite Cowboy Musicians, Artists and chuckwagons to come as well. I am also looking for sponsors of buckles and to help fund the chuckwagon feed. If you would like to help, send me an email at ducessoftheprairie@yahoo.com.
So, what was my winning and third place poems about? My first place original poem was called FULL MOON AT NOON.
Full Moon at Noon
We chased the cattle along the river and up into the timber,
At least that is what I remember.
The cattle were wild, they had long ears and long horns,
We had to keep some distance, or our cowponies would get gored.
Slim to the high side and Sue took the low,
She whispered back to me that she had to go.
I pushed the cattle onward, to give her some time,
She needed some privacy and a good place to hide.
The guys were all ahead and all was all clear,
Until Suzie’s horse spooked an old buck deer.
I didn’t hear the screams for help that she needed,
The damage was done, all the cowboys had seen it.
Her horse had lunged, and the saddle horn caught her belt buckle,
The sight we all seen, made us all chuckle.
Upside down on the side of the horse she exposed,
Her bare backside this runaway rode.
I imagined her shame in all of her glory,
I rode hard to catch her runaway pony.
She was upside down nearly touching the ground when I stopped the escape,
She rode with me blushing back to the gate.
“I’ll never live it down,” she sobbed all ashamed,
I reassured her everything would be okay.
I glared at the men, and no one said a word back at the pens,
But the boss man sure had a great big grin.
I waited for it, I knew it was coming,
A bare backside in the timber, a snide remark would be humming.
But no one spoke of Suzie’s accident then,
And no one spoke of it, when to dinner we headed in.
Her face was scarlet all through the meal,
I tried to reassure her it was really no big deal.
BUT, when we finished out meal, the boss sang us a tune,
“I never believed I ever see a full moon at noon!”
My Third Place Poem
Prairie Song
Come to the Prairie, where the Tallgrass grows,
Marvel as it dances, when the Southwind blows.
Watch a prairie sunrise, rainbow color hues,
Shines a picture perfect, good morning to you.
Hear the quail and meadowlark sing their morning song,
Melodies of nature, as you ride along.
See the cattle grazing where bison once roamed?
One of the many reasons I call the Kansas Prairie home.
Springtime on the prairie brings fire to burn the land,
Leaving the ashes, to warm the ground, new life is at hand.
Over yonder are the wheat fields a waving sea of green,
By mid-summer they are a golden harvest to be seen.
Listen to the thunder as it echoes across the hills,
Bringing rain and thunderstorms for your senses to thrill.
Feel history on the prairie, of pioneers who broke the sod,
They lived by their hopes and the Grace of God.
Fat cattle are gathered and shipped to feedlot pens,
A sure sign when the grazing season ends.
Walk on the prairie as fall begins to bloom,
The land reassures us colder days are coming soon.
Shiver as the cold wind from northern lands do blow,
Black clouds and cold frosts bring the winter snow.
Hear the night song gently whisper the horizons to turn to gray,
Sending forth the order of the ending of the day,
Watch as the nighttime brings stars to fill the sky,
Gives you time to wonder at the day and all the reasons why.
Night owls tell their stories and startle you when they hoot,
Next comes the scavengers snooping around to find some loot.
Hear the coyotes yipping, calling for their mate.
See the moon? She’s rising as the night gets late.
And so, it is the Prairie, as it sings its song every day,
Come live on it and learn its many ways.
Now my song is over my secrets I have told,
I love this prairie more & more as each year I grow old.
Have a great day!