Sponsored by the Foundation for Monterey County Free Libraries and the California Rodeo Salinas.
The Cowboy Jesse JohnnyBy Vanesa Vasquez, age 18
I am a CreekBy Amie Yebra, age 12
Cowgirl TravelsBy Xochitl Leyva, age 9
The Grace of CowboysBy Aden Sherman, age 10
Cowboys the WestBy Cheyenne Smith, age 9
My Horse SallyBy Kajal Naidu, age 9
CowgirlsBy Isabella Valles-Lizarraga, age 10
Nature’s lullabyBy Imani Sims, age 14
CowgirlsBy Isabella Valles-Lizarraga, age 10
The CowboyBy Liah M. Rodriguez, age 14
Cowboys and CowgirlsBy Savannah Valles-Lizarraga, age 14
A Cowgirl’s LifeBy Kimberly Grace Alvarez, age 11
Limerick cowboyBy Gage Frazure, age 11
CowboyBy Fernando Diaz, age 15
My Childhood on My Family RanchBy Prashant Naidu, age 15
Sweet Samson and MeBy Kendall Petit, age 7
2015 Winning Poems
The Cowboy Jesse Johnny
By Vanesa Vasquez, age 18
The great Jesse Johnny galloped on his horse,
Zooming through the crowds, riding down the moors.
“Run faster my stallion! We have to get there fast.
My cowgirl is waiting to meet me at last!”
Little did he know his cowgirl was in trouble,
Some bandits had trapped her surrounded by rubble.
She was timid, she was frightened,
With every sob the ropes around her were tightened.
Jesse Johnny learned of this and knew what to do,
So the doors trapping his girl he soon overthrew.
He lassoed the first bandit, he lassoed the second,
And they learned that he was a force with whom to be reckoned.
The night was young and his cowgirl was safe and sound,
So to a square dance they were both bound.
There was no cowboy braver than Jesse Johnny,
Nobody was more skilled or more brawny.
I am a Creek
By Amie Yebra, age 12
I am a Creek
Today I flow so low, can’t you see?
Some trees have even fallen into me.
Along my banks you can clearly see how high I
used to run.
And oh how fast I’d go,
It really was such fun.
But as the days go by the slower I go.
Today my water runs so very low.
A single drop of rain just might ease my pain.
But who to blame, is what I ask?
For they are the reason I might never flow just
Xochitl Leyva, age 9
Down on the range, a cowgirl roamed. She roamed in search of a home.
She wanted a home with family and friends, and a barn with cows and plenty of hens.
She searched in the North, but to no avail, all she could find, were places that hailed.
She searched in the South, in hopes of her dreams, instead all she found, were fields of greens.
She searched in the East, and what she found, she liked the least.
She searched in the West, hoping for the best, and lo and behold, the best was all around.
Plenty of cows, and hens, and goats and pigs abound.
She built her farm, and no more traveling all around.
But the Cowgirl yearned for more.
She yearned for family and friends.
Then one day, when she was feeding them hay, she realized family and friends had already been found.
The cows, the hens, the goats and the pigs. They were her family and they were her friends, and no
more traveling all around.
She was home.
2015Honorable Mention Poems
The Grace of Cowboys
By Aden Sherman, age 10
The Grace of Cowboys was known from door to door. Every town had em’. For their skill go hand in hand with Buffalo Bill! Ride them horses with a gleam, legendary for the sight. The Grace of Cowboys came with old boots worn and torn, water stained boots. The Grace of Cowboys came with a horse, old Betsy did her part. Ran from house to house, helping all in need. When outlaws came to town, cowboys came to stop 'em. “Bang, Bang the pistol goes, all feared its noise for it was the law and law was the west.
The Grace of Cowboys came at a price, take old Bill Tilghman. Cowboy and sheriff he was, then the sad day came “Bang!” Old Bill was no more. Cowboys don’t die, their body was buried but the cowboy rode free. In the sky, turning dusk, you might just see a little star twinkle at you. That’s the Grace of Cowboys living among the heavens.
Cowboys in the West
By Cheyenne Smith, age 9
So much depends upon a horse
Jackson, a black white socked horse
Saddle, Boots, Hat, Chaps, Vest
Cowboy, riding in the west
Cowboy in his saddle herding cattle
Branding, doctoring, herding cattle
Cowboy, roping at his best
Riding in the west
My Horse Sally
By Kajal Naidu, age 9
Oh, Sally! My horse, so sweet and kind. Your mane is so soft and smells
Just like fresh flowers just picked from our favorite daisy patch, which is
Your tail is so fluffy. It makes a sweet, swishing sound.
As you gallop past me, I enjoy seeing you brown, glassy eyes,
And see the reflection of the beautiful, blue sky.
Your love towards me fills my heart
Right up to the top!
By Isabella Valles-Lizarraga, age 10
By Imani Serefina Sims, age 14
The star are dancin’ in the sky,
The crickets singin’ low and high.
The wind is sweepin’ through the trees,
The prairie grasses whispering.
The coyotes howlin’ at the moon,
The toads they croak a somber tune.
The moon shines bright up in the sky,
Shinin’ bright an’ climbin’ high.
I’m lyin’ here beneath a tree,
Bein’ still and listening,
To Nature singin’ sweet and true;
A lullaby for me and you.
By Liah M. Rodriguez, age 14
Always filled with joy,
Oh, how he loved being a cowboy.
Riding on his horse,
Oh, how he loved to change his course.
Herding cattle was his passion,
Oh, how he loved the action.
He wore his hat daily,
Oh, how he loved it greatly.
Once he was a point rider,
Oh, how he loved to be a guider.
The rodeo was his home,
Oh, but how he loved to roam.
Cowboys and Cowgirls
By Savannah Valles-Lizarraga, age 14
roping, hardworking, racing
male, boy, female, girl
backslapping, prospecting, thundering
A Cowgirl’s Life
By Kimberly Grace Alvarez, age 11
As a moon rises across the midnight blue
a lone wolf’s dark silhouette appears into the view
her boots are known from cowgirls
to cowboys to prairie dogs for this
is the chill that turns to morning fog
the early dawn is thawed by
a piping hot cup of o’joe.
No time to waste
just a few days to bring the snow
such is the cowgirl’s life on
the cattle drive.
By Gage Frazure, age 11
THERE WAS SHERIFF IN TOWN.
HE SAW PEOPLE WITH A FROWN.
HE STOPPED ALL THE CRIME
IN JUST A NICK OF TIME.
AND THEN THE SADNESS DIED DOWN.
By Fernando Diaz, age 15
My Childhood on My Family Ranch
By Prashant Naidu, age 15
When I was just a young lad, I would always look at the morning sun,
And realize that the day's work has begun!
I’d dress at lightning speed, and race out the door
Before Mama could say anymore.
Once outside, I was greeted with the sweet, crisp air,
And the neighing of Daisy, our royal mare.
There was always a lot to do on our ranch,
But, if you didn’t get it all done, there was no midnight snack.
At half past 8, I’d jump on my trusty steed, Wanderer,
To herd the cows just over yonder.
After that tiresome job, I’d have my favorite lunch,
Corn on the cob.
My favorite activity though was playing horseshoes,
Even if it stubbed my toes.
Just before dinner, Dad always played catch with me,
Even with his two bad knees!
Dinner was always a super trip,
One no one wanted to miss!
After dinner, I cleaned up and went to bed,
And Dad told me stories about cowboys that I imagined in my head.
So now you have heard my life story, which has come to a halt,
But just maybe it gave yours a little jolt!
Sweet Samson and Me
By Kendall Petit, age 7
Oh sweet Samson
He’s such a sweet horse
When I am sad I hug him
And feel his white soft fur