Arizona Winds
It looks like half the real
estate
In Northern Arizona
Has "slipped the surly bonds of earth"
And blown into the sky
Like some dark, angry entourage
Was workin' overtime
To stir the lifeless desert soil
And laugh as it blows by.
The wind is tearin' blossoms
From the swaying apple tree
And after several hours
Of it's wailing, haunting voice
My soul is dry and brittle
While I wait for rain or calm
But a higher call than my own mind
Will make that final choice.
The windmill groans with longing
As it strains against the brake
While that pushing, pressing, wind insists
That it must bend and turn
Like people, who believe they're right
And blow and push and shove
Until your calm has blown away
And you pray that peace returns.
Contentious wind... that blow-hard kind
That rakes and turns your quiet mind
Until your nerves are frayed and raw
And tension mounts inside.
Lord... let me be a quiet breeze
That gently blows through lives
To cool, and soothe a fevered brow
Let me ease their rocky ride.
And if the breeze must press at times
When folks have missed your mark
Then, let it hold the scent of rain
That soothes like Gilead's balm
So words don't sting like driven dirt
And love is always there
The wind of your Holy Spirit
Returning peace and calm.
© April 2002, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
Mixed Blessings
There's a dry wind blowin'
dust clouds
Through mesquite and greasewood trees
And the land's so dry it's crackin'
So no living thing's at ease
And spider webs are thick and wide
Across each mountain side.
Beside the windmill still and stark
Calves bawl and cows are lowing
They're mothered up to a water trough
Cuz' nothin out there's growing
Soon they'll all be shipped away
Someplace where there's been rain.
The horses stand beside the barn
And sniff and flinch and blow
They nibble leavings on the ground
With no desire to go
They wait for us to pitch some hay
Not even young ones play.
There's a hint of rain so far away
On top of the Mogollon
And thunderheads begin to build
In the eastern sky alone
While distant thunder's talkin' bold
Of moisture soon foretold.
Depending which comes first and most
The lightning or the rain
Will dictate how the souls of men
Will cleanse or turn profane
The distant thunder's talkin' bold
Of thunderheads in stronghold.
The wind delivers mixed blessings
Of rain and fire to fall
And heal the land with double talk
Of heaven and of hell
When lightning sets the land on fire
Or rain will quench the pyre.
© 2002, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
From an Old Ranch Wife
My son... there you stand...
coffee cup in your hand
Still steamin' and hot from the pot
You tell me you want to get married
While your horse is hobbled out front!
I wish I had time now to tell you
Just what those few words really mean
But instead I'll just ask you a question
You should answer before trading rings.
One question, my son, you must answer
Before double tracing you start
Think long, and think hard as I ask you
What will you give... in exchange for her heart?
Hard work? Dogied calves? Dying roses?
Long days in the sun or the snow?
Rain running in under window panes?
Then haulin' wood through the snow?
Riding drag with a dog that don't like her?
Loosing chickens to coyotes and skunks?
Don't grin at me boy... cuz' I'm speakin' the truth
I hope she's not packin' her trunks!!
So give me your cup and I'll wash it.
Unhobble your horse... now ride smart
But think on that question I asked you,
What will you give... in exchange for her heart?
© July 2002, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
Ridin' Drag
He married that girl in '55
Back when they were young and alive
Moved to the ranch and settled in
She made every camp shine like a lamp
And now and then she'd ride drag.
She cooked and cleaned and wrote to her mom
Milked the cow and doctored her bag
And once in a while, when the help was short
He'd saddle a horse and call her out
And she'd grab her hat and ride drag.
The droughty years were tough on cows
And cowboys were scattered afar
So now and then he'd make her day
He'd tell her to pack a couple of sacks
Cuz' somebody had to ride drag.
She learned to like the dusty chore
Even more as the years rolled by
For it meant she was really a trusted hand
Who would always ride for the brand
Even if all she did was ride drag.
And that she did, for many years
Through smiles, and tears and sweat and fears.
Until one day, his heart gave out
And through her tears she smiled and said,
"This time I don't want to ride drag."
He patted her hand and wiped her tears
And he smiled through lips drawn tight
"My sweet, I pray that you'll be alright,
I'm goin' on and I'll mark the way,
But somebody has to ride drag."
© 2003, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
What a Ride
We've Had!!
He lay there in the blankets
on a lonely bunkhouse cot
Thinking back on better days when he was in a better spot
Where life was filled with laughter
And the ways of cowboy days
Ridin' out with all his heroes, made of merely mortal clay.
And his thoughts were overflowing with a song from deep within
"What a ride we've had my brothers, what a wonder it's all been,
Life's been full of mostly everything
A man could ever need
What a glory trail the portion, of this vagrant cowboy breed."
"What a ride we've had my brothers, what a glory trail we've seen,
What more could anybody ask then where we all have been?
Oh, a wife & kids would sure be nice
This side of paradise
But I wouldn't trade no kiddies for the splendid sacrifice!"
Thus he drifted off in day-dreams full of horses, grass and sky
Where the glory of the morning was so easy on the eye
When he rode the range so freely
Being just a stringy lad
And he sang his song of glory, "Brothers... what a ride we've
had."
© 2003, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
A Leap of Faith
When your left foot hits the stirrup
And your right foot leaves the ground
There's a whole lot that can happen
While your butt is saddle bound!
It's a leap of faith 'yer takin'
As you reach toward that crest
That this horse you're takin' holt of
Will respond with all his best.
There's a vast pool of potential
In that space between his ears
And a cowboy knows he's reachin'
For what lies beyond the fears.
So you watch his eyes for tension
As you catch hold of the mane
Then your left foot hits the stirrup
While you try to read his brain.
And you see yourself reflected
In the window of his soul
But your toe has found position
In foundation with a hole.
And what happens in that moment
When your right foot leaves the ground
Will either make or break you
If his choice is come unwound.
But you've surely done your groundwork
And this isn't his first round
Where a left foot hit the stirrup
And a right foot left the ground.
So you take that leap of faith again
Where hope and hard work meet
With a sense that all the world is right
In the rhythm of his feet.
© 2004, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
They're Comin' in to Water
It started when just four of 'em
Way up along the cedars
Started down the narrow trail
And then I watched the leaders
Reach to nip at one another
With their ears laid back in fun
When the whole bunch pulled in sight
They erupted to a run
They had started out real easy
Seemed like they were havin' fun
'Til one lit into another
And the whole herd come undone
It had turned into a horserace
Through the malapai and grass
Some were barefoot some were shod
But the bunch was comin' fast.
So I held my breath in silence
With my coffee mug in hand
As they rumbled through the pasture
Blowin' dust up from the land
They were comin' in to water
Where the windmill cranks and whines
Pumping for a parched remuda
Where long shadows draw their lines
They drank their fill of water
Then stood quietly around
Head to tail they switched the flies away
And gently stomped the ground
Two young fellers stood with shoulders
Side to side and heads aloft
Gently gnawing at the withers
Of his pardner warm and soft
About a half an hour passed
Some watered out again
Then lined out on the narrow trail
Like perfect specimen
This time they walked out slowly
Quite methodical in fact
As though higher pecking order
Had instructed how to act
It'll be tomorrow morning
When their thirst begins again
To draw them to the windmill
Like some chicks back to a hen
They'll come buckin' through the granite
Through the cactus and the grass
As another morning breaks across
A window of the past.
Thanks to a workshop in Prescott
August 2004
© 2004, Sally Harper Bates
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted
without the author's written permission.
Read Sally Bates' poem, For
My Friends, Larry & Andrea that was written for Larry and Andrea
McWhorter, here.
Sally Bates' story "Spooky
Cook" is featured in Hot Biscuits
a great collection edited by Max Evans and Candy Moulton, published by
University of New Mexico Press.
See our special feature about the book here.
Book and CDs
The
Canyons of My Heart
2008
The Canyons of My Heart includes 14
new cowboy songs, 3 gospel songs, and 8 poems.
Most of the songs are family history or
stories about friends and personal incidents. Canyons of My
Heart seems to hold what has been hidden in the canyons of my
heart until it found its way into this album.
The CD is $18.85 postpaid
Order from:
Sally Bates
P.O. Box 2814
Chino Valley, AZ 86323
Vantage
Point
The book is 70 pages
including 38 poems with illustrations. Some of the
poems are new, some are "oldies but goodies" which were written in
the past.
All 38 are original poems.
There are 12 songs on the
CD, including four pieces that were written by other
poets and I put music to. he rest are original songs. Songs are:
Song of the Horseman
Arizona Night
Cedar Dust
Grandad's Brand
Ridin' Out
Coffee
Rustler's Moon
Waltz of the 3/4 Moon
Arizona August - Gail Gardner
Tracks That Won't Blow Out - Ray Owens
Roses in the Yard - Jon Messenger
The Mirror - Ron Brinegar
The CD is $15
The book is $12
Set of both is $24
Shipping and packaging are $4.50
Order from:
Sally Bates
P.O. Box 2814
Chino Valley, AZ 86323
