Barbed Wire

Have you ever pondered
The cowboy’s fate;
When he confronted barbed wire
Without a gate?

When Joseph Glidden patented
His wire in 1873—
It marker an end to an era that was free.

Colorful was the cowboy,
With high heeled bots and chaps,
With lariats and six guns
And those necessary traps.

Their mournful songs are legend now
And still heard today,
About the girl they left behind
Or of their lowly pay.

In driving cattle o’er desert floor
Or o’er mountain pass,
They were often out of water
Or very short of grass.

All day he sat his saddle
‘til they settled down at night.
A yell, a shout, a thunderclap
Could move a herd to might

A frightened herd that starts to run—
Men trying to impede—
Riding hard to turn the herd
And stop a great stampede.
The trails went through territory
Sometimes fraught with danger:
Hostile Indians or rustlers
Were most unwelcome strangers.

But worst than that with canteens dry,
And hot enough to fry;
Then getting word back from the point,
“The waterhole is dry!”

Other hazards dogged their trail
Like a blizzard or a fire;
But the thing that got his dander up
Was to confront that darned barbed wire.

By: “Happy” Wore Red