Tall Tales
Our good friend Lani Cran Petrie was telling us one day about how she and her father Gordon Cran were trying to get some wild cattle out of an area in Kāpapala Ranch in Kaʻu. She told us how they had rounded up and were moving a herd of wild cattle out of a forested area on the ranch. She said a young bull had run off from the herd and was not willing to come out of the forest. She described how she and her father found the bull, roped him and were pulling him out of the forest with much difficulty. Frustrated her father told her to drop her rope which allowed the bull to attack her father and his horse. She went on to say that the way her father lead the bull out of the forest was like "Poetry in Motion". Jody was writing Cowboy poetry at the time and she and I sat down and composed Tall Tales together. Ironically Tall Tales was the name of the horse Gordon Cran was ridding. This story is not a tall tale.
It was poetry in motion
As they threaded through the trees
The horse Tall tales
Doing his job
Between the boss’s knees
The bull was right upon them
Speed was their only hope
With the drag rope loose and trailing
They galloped down the slope
They started hunting cattle
Where the wild ones like to hide
The boss man on his favorite horse
His daughter by his side
Together they had worked this land
Twenty years it seemed
But today she saw what all those years
Had really come to mean
The work was moving steady on the section left to clear The cows and calves had all been moved
But he bull had disappeared
They found him on a little knoll Looking mighty mean
The boss man took his dally hard
And the daughter she threw clean
With two ropes pulling tightly
They held the demon still
With the daughter riding anchor
The boss lead them down the hill
But the trees were thick and tangled
They could barely hold em clear
Drop your rope the boss man yelled
I’m running em out of here
In horrid fascination She watched the old man ride
Ducking Dancing sliding turning Side to side
A lot has been sung about a man and his ride
But this man and horse in motion
Filled her with great pride
It was poetry in motion
As they threaded through the trees
Horse Tall Tales doing his job
Between the boss’s knees
You can sing about you famous rides
But I can guarantee
You’ll never top the ride
That’s burned in the daughter’s memory
It was poetry in motion
As they threaded through the trees.