Why Do They Write for Short Pay?

I reckon there’s a reason and I’ll give it all I’ve got
To sort the notions ranging ‘cross my brain pan at a trot,
As I ponder, asking why so many cowboys write
Poems as they’re lounging round their campfires late at night.

Maybe it’s the hoofbeats of the horses while they ride
That gives their words a rhythm as they well up deep inside.
With all the rocking, swaying, bouncing through the chaparral 
A poem without rhythm would be plumb unnatural.

Now as for why their poems rhyme, maybe that’s the way
They wrap their words in piggin’ strings so none will get away.
Words, just like a maverick steer, can sudden-like turn tail
And leave a cowboy poet searching round to find the trail.

And why so many ballads form within the cowboy’s head
Is clear, there’s stories to be told before the cowboy’s dead.
Every culture has its lore, and cowboys know theirs best
So, who could better wrangle verse that signifies the West?

Some poems sure are plumb near lies, dressed up to bring a chuckle, 
Some are just as true as any bruised old puncher’s buckle. 
Others bring a glistening film of moisture to the eye
Like hearing far off in the night a lone coyote’s cry.

They gather lines as best they can by light of moon and sun
Some they write for sentiment, others just for fun.
What is it makes a cowboy want to play the poet’s part?
To build a loop that’s sure to settle snug around your heart.