Trailin' South

(Writer’s Note: Many cowhands earned their keep herding cows from far south Texas up the Chisholm Trail to Abilene Kansas where they beef was loaded onto the rail. They rode up with a herd and rode back without one glad to be heading home once again. This poem is about one of those cowpokes.)

　

　

The herd is calmed and bedded-down now in the pens of old Abilene

The count’s been made, money’s been, split up and put in our old jeans

Us pokes had some whiskey, dancing’ girls, and good food in our mouth

Now it’s time to pack up the chuck and get on that trail headed south

　

　

　

Ol’ Cookie’s got his wagon ridin’ rear, now he’ll be eatin’ our dust

It’s just some pay for the way he cooked those meals we cussed

But when that old sun sets, and us pokes climb down from the saddle

We’ll smile and our stomach will hunger when we hear dishes rattle

　

　

　

The trail is such a pretty place when we don’t have to push a herd

I can see the wildlife running, the snake, brown bear, and the bird

The streams are all clear; water is rollin’ like a babbling brook

This sure is one beautiful place, this trail south that we took

　

　

My little darlin’ will be awaitin with the kids right by the door

The hound dog will be there sprawled on the old wood porch floor

And when they see me comin’, they will run with scream and yell

Welcoming me back home from my ride on the Ol’ Chisholm Trail

　

　

　

The winter cold will come but with my family I’ll stay here at home

But then will come the spring round up, back up the trail we’ll roam

Once again we’ll be pushin’ hoofed beef north to that old familiar scene

Once again, we’ll be herdin’ doggies north on the trail to Abilene

　

　

But until that time arrives once again and northward we must head

I will keep my family loved and fed here on our ranch homestead

They know I will go again to earn us some money from the sale

They know I make our living riding north and south on the trail.

　

　

　

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