Bøger af Ron Gale

COWGIRLSCowgirls are wild, and these cowgirls are free.Cowgirls need space and those places to be.When a cowgirl marries, its a real test.They need a strong partner, they need the best.It isn't a life for a week-kneed wimp, whether he's large or a smaller shrimp.A cowgirl's not living a life of ease, but living their chosen life as they pleas

Billy O'Reilly is a novel about a young boy who lost his family, lost his youth, and I grew up fast in the eighteenth century working on a cattle ranch, and onto a trail drive to Montana. As an early teenager, he went on a cattle drive into Canada, and back, all of the time hounded by hired killers trying to take his life by relations trying to get hold of money and property left to him by his grandfather. A truly wild western is depicting the type of life in the West when the West was young of life in the West when the West was young.

Cowboy poetry was the western North American Cowboy's way to remember incidents and retell them around campfires at night. These cowboy poems are witty, interesting, funny and sad. They consist of things interesting to cowhands and everyday folk interested in what went on in the west in North America.

Cowboy poems by Ron gale are exciting, stimulating, and strictly clean poems depicting a lifetime ranching, training horses and stockdogs DANGEROUSLYTo make a living dangerously, or carry on so pleasantly, the choice is ours for us to make, but think on it for goodness sake.I always live with danger near, not living it in total fear, with that decision, I'm so sure, that danger is a constant lure.And danger always grips our lives, and everywhere danger derives, it's dangerous to just survive, or move about while we're alive.There's danger in a simple ride, in case your horse should just decide, to spook or jump or even fall, the danger's there for one and all.There's danger when ya simply drive, along a trail 'til you arrive, ya never know what danger's there, so always use a little care.While danger's not to worry us, Tho' using caution is a plus, this world is here for us to use, to not exploit or to abuse.So use it sparing and well, and if it's right you'll always tell, so take the life in which ya chose, just treat it right and you won't lose.WASTED TIMEA wasted time for most of us?Since we are close to the virus. And now I'm simply thinkin' clear, I'm hopin' for another year.Playin' with viruses and bats, is far more dangerous than rats, and it has caused a rotten trend, I'm hopin' that it's not the end.The end for me would mean, "I'm dead." And that's the very thing I dread, cause I am still gettin' ready, and I'm really slow but steady.Now I would like to specify, the many things before I die, that I would like to put to use, and then my time I can reduce.I'd like to end in Heaven's gate, but I am sure that I can wait, to see if I can rectify, some of the things from by-and-bye.Some things like in my early time, those things I thought were so sublime, those things The Lord would not condone, the things not done were I alone.Those things I've done I can't take back, but hope The Lord gives me some slack, but I'll be ready any day, and hope The Lord hears when I pray.NO MEMORYI've spent my life on a fine line, and now I've finally got the time, to reminisce and carry through, and do the things I've wished to do.But now my memory so bad, that I can truly find it sad, that when I write a shortened verse, it goes from bad to even worse.My memory I'm sure is shot, I'll carry on whether or not, I can remember every line, like as if my memorie's fine.My memory I'm sure will stay, but lose a bit most every day, I won't remember all that's lost, a bit of losin' is the cost.I'd like a lifetime memory, or of a real centenary, but now I know I won't get those, but what I'll get nobody knows.I'll get what God to me avails, and I don't know what that entails, exceptin' that right now I'm wrong, with memories seemingly gone.My memories; I've lost a bunch, and what I'll keep it's just a hunch, I hope that I don't lose it all, but only God can make that call.I lose a memory a day, for each and everyone I'll pay, and I will start to visualize, before my memory just dies.A memory I'd like to share, is one of showing love and care, and while that loving time is past, the memory of it will last.Now it was when my kids were born, my truest love was never torn, between my wife and my offspring, it truly made a body sing.Now memories are of the past, and memories do make it last, I like sweet memories the best, And others are simply a test.Like memories of a rodeo, and other events where I'd go, to try to win, or just compete, what 'ere it was 'twas truly neat.If memories do not respond, then I will know where I've been wronged, and maybe I can work it out, and head them back; a turn about.Now what I get is what I've got, and I can like it now, or not, I'll not be givin' up no how, I'll sto

Cowboy poems mostly about horses, some exciting some funny most educational

Christmas poems Cowboy style.An old-line shack, away out back, I dream of Christmas chuck.Out where there're gals and Christmas bells, But snowbound here, I'm stuck.The North winds cry while drifts grow high.The flame is blazing higher.I realize there're no supplies, As I stoke the blazing fire.The cattle bawl, as cold winds crawl.But snow keeps fallin' down.With the cows fed, I'll make my bed, No way I'll get to town.With snow as high as a horses eye, And drifts top twenty feet.The guy would tramp from here to camp, Is one I'd like to meet?Of apple pie, I'll dream, and cry, Of the grits, and hot roast turkey.But cows I'll feed, and tend their need;Eatin' beans and old cold jerky.CHRISTMAS AT THE RANCHA Christmas Day out at the ranch.Where every day I take a chance.When just a kid past being nursed.We always fed the livestock first.When we'd start to feed the cattle, It was no real kind of battle.My dad just said, "Some extra hay, Because this is a special day.And these ol' doggies need it good.But then I never understood.Why we should give them extra feed, As they were getting what they need.We always fed them just so much, And any more they would not touch.Now in our early morning hasteThe extra feed would be a waste.A CHRISTMAS I REMEMBERThere's a Christmas I remember, just a cold, frosty December.The wind was blowing wild.It was way back in forty-one, As the great war had just begun.When I was but a child, And then the war and rationing, that, to me, a separate thing.For me, it was so mild.A newer type of suppression, after the Great Depression.To me, it seemed so wild.I received a real saddle, and I never got a paddle.With memories now filed.And since then I do remember, every Christmas in December.I'm no longer a child.I enjoy a simple Christmas, Even tho it's such a business, In the way that it's styled.I know that life will always changeand I'll continue to arrange.It kinda' makes me riled.Christmas should be to celebrate, and to forget our simple hate.'Cause for Christ, it's been compiled. TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS'Twas the night before Christmas out here on the Ranch.And the tree was erected with each matching branch.All the balls were put on with the tinsel attached.With an angel on top and everything matched.Both the children were quiet, no noise would they dare.They hung up their stockings with the greatest of care.Young Johnny would dream of the rope that he wanted.His sister, she wished forthat saddle undaunted.Both children were looking towards this Christmas day.They both knelt by the bedand they started to pray, We're both praying Lord that You'll keep protecting us.While keeping us healthy is an enormous plus.They then praised The Lord for all the things that they had.Knowing whatever they gotthey

Kisse Manitu Wayo (The Almighty Voice of the Cree peoples) this is the story of Almighty Voice from his early life, including his last stand near the Minichinis Hills in what is now Saskatchewan Canada. An interesting book about a segment of the Canadian Cree Indians from the Riel rebellion through to Kisse's killing of Sergeant Colin Campbell Colebrook, which began one of the biggest, longest searches in the history of the North West Mounted Police and then the final battle. A total of six North West Mounted Police officers was killed during their rein in Canada, and three of the six were killed by Kisse

It's Western funny, exciting, real and serious. ENJOY THE RIDEThe devil maybe gets his day.But just The Lord can make it pay.Riding broncs, you maybe win, even if you live in sin.But with The Lord right at your side, you're sure to more enjoy your ride.And even if you win, or lose, you're doing it just as you choose.MEMORIESDo memories stand the test of time?Or can they bear the gradual climb?A memory one could not forget.I hope it's fun. Or better yet, Memories of a love that pleases you.A memory that I hope is true.A tragic memory's never fine.It leaves ya tight and makes ya pine.But held in check, 'twill finally fade.And then with time, ya'll have it made.THE HUMAN RACEThe fact that every human kind.Is searching all around to find.The roots from where they all came from.And technically they all did come, All through this life; throughout these scenes, Into this world from Adam's genes.But now we hate this race or that, Because of birth, or where it's at.The greatest thing to me is fate.The very worst, I think is hate.For every race thinks they're the best.And every other just a pest, The utmost thing we need to face;There's only one; the human race.I RESPECT MY FRIENDSStrangers are simply friends I haven't met.And seldom do I meet ones I regret.Friends are ones I have reason to believe, That can use sources too friendship achieve.Friends who don't all agree, but will forgive.Are the ones that I prefer and hope they'll live, Close enough for us to really enjoy, This life and love that they and I employ!I know that my true friends I'd not eject.But each, and every friend I do respect, And hope they'll remain to me 'til the end.I truly wish to be a real t