MOUNTAIN FEVER by Bette Wolf Duncan copyright 1999 Rocky Mountain memories are painting up the air. The painting's called "Montana"; and memories paint me there. The Yellowstone's majestic falls, I see them wash the canyon walls With water plunging from on high, then spewing mist into the sky. Pastel colors, sunshine kissed- I see the rainbows on the mist. I'm western born and western bred; fed on trout and crisp corn bread. I'd like to cast my fishing line, and watch a rainbow trout leap up and snap my favorite fly- then whip the line about. It's never really mattered much if I was short on fishing skill. With God's own glory all around, my eyes have always caught my fill. I'm western born and western bred- fed on elk and bannock bread. When memory paints the Rockies, it paints a living prayer whose sheer magnificence proclaims, "There is a God. He's there!" The Beartooth's beckon. Spring is near. It's time to pack the camping gear. It's time to spread my wings and soar into those distant peaks once more.
Visit Bette Wolf Duncan's web page, CASEY'S CORRAL at http://www.users.uswest.net/~wacobill
Contact Bette Wolf Duncan at wacobill@uswest.net
TOO MUCH FUN by Ben McKenzie Skeeters on the high ground, skeeters in the flat. Cows gettin skinny, skeeters gettin fat! Alfalfa gettin heavy, time to cut again. But the hosses won't pull steady, when there's skeeters in the wind! Horn flies work the roundup, as young bull turns to steer. Drive a Waddie crazy, flying ear to ear. Eatin your share of horn flies, layin on the brand. Makes a fellow wonder, don't them suckers ever land? Red ants in my sooguns. red ants in my boots. Red Ants, Flies, and Skeeters, must be in cahoots! Enough to duff you down a tad, and leave a Cowboy greavin! Whilst the Deer Flies and the Horse Flies, is takin up the leavins! Sun up high in a cloudless sky, day so hot a man could die! Fence half done, dog done quit, think I'll stick it out a bit! Someday I think I'll leave the range, to the skeeters, the flies and the sun. But, Lord Ah Mighty, I can't quit now! I'm having too much fun! Contact Ben McKenzie at Teepees1@aol.com Visit his web page -- Horse Feathers
Grandma & Th' Goat by Donna Penley Gramps broughht home a goat from a sale one summer's day; Said, "He'll keep th' weeds down, an' he did, but what th' hey? He ate Grandma's garden an' her geranium plants; I'd never seen Granma so mad. She did a real war dance! Then th' goat ambushed her on her way to get th' mail; Knocked my uncle down as he toted a full milk pail. Grandma assailed my Granpa one night at th' supper meal; "You'd best sell that billy. You know how I feel!" But, Gramps, he just ignored her, an' to his bed he went; I knew he'd done an unwise thing. Gran's eyes were hard as flint. Next day she acted kinda strange as we went to th' field to work; Wouldn't speak to Granpa. He knew that she was irked. Th' next few days slipped by real quiet. Th' goat was nowheres seen; An' when Gramps inquired of him, my Grandma's eyes, they gleamed. In a few days, it had dawned on Gramps, th' goat was gone fer sure; An' Grandma acted mighty happy. Had a smile so sweet an' pure. then Sunday mornin' rolled around, time to go to meetin'; An' we got up an' we got dressed, an' when breakfast we was eatin', Grandma goes an' gets her purse an' dons a brand new coat; An' Grandpa choked on his sip of coffee -- GRANDMA'D GOT HIS GOAT!!! Contact Donna Penley at Sandhill65@aol.com
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