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LOLA CHIANTARETTO
Arizona
About Lola Chiantaretto
 

 

 

Cowgirl

I hadn't seen my friend
In a number of long years
Her short timely visit
Confirmed one of my big fears

"That old coat, chaps and hat
Make you look like all the rest.
Gosh girl, with men around
You should always look your best."

I didn't really need
Attention from the cowboys
But the proud look of her
Husband, a woman enjoys

Taking her words to heart
I looked myself all over
I could sure use some help
Indeed a full make-over

That would take too much fuss
I would just have to decide
What was expendable
The next time it came to ride

My hat, sunglasses, jeans
And high top boots are absolute
Long sleeve shirts with pockets
To hold my tally and loot

Like Tylenol, cough drops
And Immodium AD
Matches, gum, chap stick and
The ever valuable t.p.

You can't work without chaps
No matter how bad it looks
This rough, rugged country
Is full of stickers and hooks

I pondered my options
Considered more than a few
Then I did what any
practical cowgirl would do

I kept all my good gear
Each piece comes in quite handy
There would be other ways
To be an ornate dandy

Adding silver conchos
Bright scarves or a fancy vest
But be real, after all
No sense being over dressed

A gal's got to be wise
An element I must stress
I've got a job to do
Not look like a vain princess!

2009, Lola A. Chiantaretto
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

Lola comments: "My friend Omi came to visit me while we were gathering all of the cattle off of one ranch. It was summer time in Arizona and the cattle were wild. It made more sense to keep my gear than fret about a fashion statement. The cowboys didn't care and  neither did the cows."

 

 

Tom's Bad Luck

It was June and getting hot
An early start was essential
With a crew of three kids
Getting up was eventual

One young man was riding colts
The two palominos would buck
They would sunfish and spin
Covering them took more than luck

He knew when he stepped on
That the ride would take all his might
'Cause that son-of-a-gun
Would put up one heck of a fight

Before he started each day
He'd open his tobacco dip
Placing a large mound of
Grizzly between his gums and lip

The Palomino didn't
Feel much like bucking that warm day
So we started to ride
With out another dear delay

Trotting up Ice Box Canyon
We enjoyed cool welcome relief
From the relentless sun
That robs you of strength like a thief

We were in Bottleneck Canyon
The crew was riding single file
I bet we hadn't gone
More than an Arizona mile

I shifted in the saddle
To see what the noise was about
Tom was over his horse
Selling Buicks with a loud shout

He had swallowed his big chaw
Causing him to get puking sick
What a day for bad luck
We were riding in a dry crick

We didn't show much mercy
For the prideful ailing young lad
Instead took advantage
Of all the pleasure to be had

Many think chewing is cool
Some say it helps calm them down
But there's nothing calming
About coughing up something brown.

2009, Lola Chiantaretto
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

Lola comments: "We were gathering a 95 section (60,800 acre) ranch with the help of three teenage boys.This actually happened to one of them. After we all had a good laugh, my husband suggested I write a poem about it. This is the result."

 



About Lola Chiantaretto:

I live wherever we are working at the time. My husband and I work cows nearly 300 days a year on average. We have cattle of our own as well as day work. Until recently we also had a full time job on that 95 section ranch near Kingman, Arizona. Working for different ranches has provided a variety of experiences."

 

 

 

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