Cowboy Poetry and Music and More at the BAR-D Ranch

About Perry L. Williams




Creekwood Ranch Christmas

Christmas Day broke clear and bright
   As sunshine pushed away the night
But in the north the storm clouds rolled
   With hint of change and winter cold

As cottonwoods with leafless branch
   Stood silent there on Creekwood Ranch
Like sent'nals from another age
   Who'd witnessed history, page by page

But the rooster crowed and wished us well
   Then the wind blew in, as cold as hell
And the water froze 'neath the fallen snow
   While the roads got icy and we couldn't go

To get the wood or the cattle's feed
   Or the little things that fits the need
Of a cowboy locked in for a spell
   With no t'erbacky, sad to tell

And it won't get better, might get worse
   So I count the days and sit and curse
At the walls and mice and everything
   Just to pass the time, waitin' for the spring

When the snow will melt and the flowers bloom
   And the sun peeks through to break the gloom
While the does drop fawns in hideaways
   The bluebird sings of better days

Then the eagle soars in silent flight
   With feathers dark and snowy white
And I'm thankful that my God did give
   ...To me, a cowboy life to live!

© 1993, Perry L. Williams, All Rights Reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's  permission.



Mother Love

Her husband yelled he needed help
To put 'em in the pen
'Cause them cows kept wantin' to go back
To where they just had been

So the ranch wife didn't hesitate
She jumped into the fray
Determined that them sullen cows
Would go the other way

Well, Linda thought they'z all pushed in
But then to her surprise
She spots this rawboned yeller cow
From the corner of her eyes

Standin' in behind a thorny bush
Just a sizin' up the scene
Her eyes was kinda rollin' back
And she's actin' kinda mean

But that gal cain't bluff Linda
Why she's knowed 'er since she's small
So she moves to block that ol' cow off
Never gives no thought a'tall

That by steppin' 'tween that mama
And her new born baby calf
She's a threat that makes Ol' Yeller
Take up the fight on it's behalf

So the first thing that Miss Linda knows
Is them horns has knocked her flat
And she bruises her anatomy
Right back there where she sat

But that don't sooth old mama boys
She has no fear or fright
And she wouldn't think of runnin'
'Cause that gal, she came to fight

Well, after a few hooks and shoves
Pushin' Linda all about
That big ol' long-faced mama
She decided to move out

And trotted to her baby
Checked to see that he's OK
Looks back toward the rancher's wife
Then moseyed on away

Well, Wayne knows sumthin's happened
And he feels some what forlorn
When he steps out through them bushes
And sees Linda, ripe with thorn

Boys, all he said was it's too bad
Them cows all got away
And it will take to doggone long
To get 'em back today

But his little wife, with flashin' eyes
Said cowboy quit yer bitchin'
'Cause if I ever work them cows again
...You'll have to bring 'em in my kitchen!

© 1993, Perry L. Williams, All Rights Reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's  permission.



The Cowboy Poet

The thoughts they come from deep inside
A tough old cowboy's heart
He'd like to tell you how he feels
But he don't know how to start

So he writes the words and puts 'em down
On paper, and in time
He gives some thought and figures out
Just how to make 'em rhyme

'Cause poems are just the inner thoughts
Of things that touch a man
Those things from his experience
That some can't understand

Unless they've plowed the rocky ground
Or walked an uphill road
And wondered if they'd reach the top
With life's ol' heavy load

Now tell me how would a cowboy write
'Bout things he didn't know
Like buyin' a new Cadillac
Or havin' lots of dough

Course some poems might touch us all
When they mention life's travails
Because no man runs life's rugged race
'Cepten once in awhile he fails

So here's to the cowboy poets
Who from far and wide will bring
A few thoughts to share with others
At the gatherin' in the Spring

And we'll hope a thought that's hidden
There in a verse or rhyme
Will help bring back some memory
You thought was lost to time

Maybe 'bout your mother sweet
Or your daddy, brave and strong
Who were with you in the mornin' light
But when evenin' came, they'd gone

Or he may write about a fav'rite horse
'Bout a dog that was a pal
Even tell you about his broken heart
When he lost some little gal

So just sit back and listen
To the poets do their thing
And for you we hope some hidden thought
...Or memory, they'll bring.

© 1991, Perry L. Williams, All Rights Reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's  permission.

Perry Williams comments: Although I had written a few poems before, the inspiration for this work came after I attended my first cowboy gathering and heard Waddie Mitchell and other cowboys pour out their hearts and feelings quoting personal poems. Hence, I was later driving on a West Texas highway going through the sandy mesquite brush country settled by my family over 100 years before and all of a sudden the idea for the poem hit me. As stated in poem, "The thoughts they come, from deep inside, a tough ol' cowboy's heart"—and that's exactly what happened to me and to most writers of cowboy poetry!


Dining Out

Tex went down to the feedstore
And signed up to win a trip
To leave out of Houston, Texas
On a leaky sailin' ship

Well shore enough his name got drawed
For a trip to New York City
Where there weren't too many cowboys
But they said the girls were pretty

And Tex had always wanted to
Do other things as well
Like order up a fancy meal
At a shore first class hotel

'Cause he'd always heard the Waldorf-
Astoria was the best
So he ordered up a T-Bone steak
To put 'em to the test

Yes sir, the stuffy waiter said
As he acts somewhat discreet
And turns his nose up when he sees
What's on the cowboy's feet

Heck, Ol' Tex had on his workin' boots
All scuffed and showin' wear
Boots that's seen a heap of wearin'
But seen very little care

So the prissy waiter went on back
And turned the order in
Then 'fore Tex could catch his breath
The guy was back again

He said, “I've brought you soup, Sir”
And with very little tact
He set the bowl in front of Tex
But Tex, he shoved 'er back

He said he didn't order soup
That he had ordered meat
Sent it back into the kitchen
'Cause it wudn't fit to eat

But the waiter come back with the soup
Said the cook's some mad, no doubt
So Tex he says, “Forget it”
Grabs his hat and storms right out

So about the time that Tex gets back
To his room, the guy next door
Has a fit and falls a kickin'
In the middle of the floor

Well, they calls this Lady Doctor
Who says, no need to worry
She prescribes a soothing enema
To be brought up in a hurry

So these two husky hombres
Go to Tex's room by mistake
And said he didn't have no choice
That an enema, he'd take

And proceeded to administer
What Doc said, would make him better
Told Tex to do what he was told
Or it sure 'nuff would upset 'er

So fin'ly Tex he makes it home
And the boy's all want to know
About New York and the things he's seen
And the places he did go

Well, Ol' Tex, he just ignores 'em
And don't have much to say
But they just keep on a pesterin'
Through the night and through the day

So fin'ly Tex he loosens up
Says, “I'll give you guys some poop”
If you ever dine at the Waldorf, boys

© 2014, Perry L. Williams, All Rights Reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's  permission.

Perry Williams comments
: This is a traditional campfire story told by working cowboys to provide entertainment to break the monotony of roundup time. It was my pleasure to take this story and put it into meter and rhyme. Jim Shelton, deceased, of Glenwood, New Mexico, is the last one I heard tell the story, about 20 years ago.


The Christmas Catch

The bells they was ringin'
And the coyotes was singin'
Their song on a Christmas Eve night
And Ol' Jim kept an eye
On the cold winter sky
For Santa to come into sight

But he went off to sleep
While he was countin' sheep
And he missed when Ol' Santa come callin'
So when he woke up
He's a shore saddened pup
As out of his bed he's a crawlin'

Then he hears this loud yell
Like someone's catchin' hell
Outside, and you know what he see'd
That his bear dog named Pete
Who was dang hard to beat
Had this hombre named Santa Claus treed

But Ol' Jim got 'im down
And turned 'im around
Then helped 'im get back in his sleigh
And he heard a HO HO
As away he did go
. . . And Santa ain't come back since that day !!!

© 1996, Perry L. Williams, All Rights Reserved
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's  permission.

illustration by Choc McCorcle


      About Perry L. Williams
provided 2013

Perry L. Williams is a Texas cowboy who has always loved the West and the western way of life.

He has built fence in the hot desert sun, fed cattle on frosty winter mornings and enjoyed the company of many good cowboys through the years. His favorite sport has always been the unique American sport of rodeo. He was a bull rider, a bareback rider, competed as a college rodeo team member and for many years was a rodeo clown & bull fighter at both amateur and professional rodeos.

For over 50 years Perry has utilized not only his own personal experiences, as well as things that have happened to his buddies, to write cowboy poems that bring laughter and tears to those audiences he shares the poems with. It has been his pleasure and privilege to perform cowboy poetry in Texas, New Mexico, Arizona, Arkansas and Wyoming.



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