Shows

Spend a day in the life of the true cowboys...
Return for a time to the real old west...
It's an experience you and your guests will never forget.

Turn back the hands of time and re-live the life of a cowboy. Hear stories, songs and poetry from a time now gone. Listen and feel the emotions as well as the heart beat of a real cowboy.

Email Stan or Call 1-800-554-4199

Stan Kruml, Cowboy Poet

Dear Friends:

This morning I got up, put on my hat, got dressed and finished by stomping my feet until my boots felt just right. I started a fire and when it got going well enough, I set my coffee pot filled with coffee and water in the fire.

Then I headed for the corrals to feed the horses. The sun was coming up and I could hear the horses moving around. They can always hear my spurs jingling long before I get to the corrals and know they'll get their feed soon. As I walked, I said a silent prayer of thanks for the life I have with horses. I pushed the hay cart around and fed out a bail of hay to the nine head I'm working with right now.

I was born a cowboy and from the time I could pull on my own boots it was clear I had a way with animals. But my real magic has always been with horses.

So now let me tell you how I became a Cowboy Poet...

I never thought of myself as a cowboy poet until just a few years ago. A friend of mine heard me read a few of my poems and told me I should put them in a book. His father has supplied most all the guns for TV westerns and he'd been around a lot of real and TV cowboys. He had heard some good cowboy poetry and said mine was as good as any he had heard anywhere.

So for the next four months I called, wrote, emailed and faxed anyone I could remember giving a poem to. It sure was a search... I've done a lot of drifting in my day.

I do remember the very first real cowboy poem I ever wrote....

It was to a mighty pretty waitress at a grayhound bus station in Wickenburg, Arizona. She was workin' there when I got off the buss.

It told her of how special and pretty she was, comparing her beauty to the stars, the moon, the sunsets and the beautiful desert flowers. I told her she was prettier than a two year old filly. That last part may have been a bit too much because I never did see her again...

Over the next 40 or so years of my life I wrote a little poetry once in a while. Most of it was given away, never to be seen or heard again.

For the last few years, I have reflected back over my life and put together a pretty good account. Every once in a while a poem will just come into my head and I put it down on paper quick before its gone.

Much of my work today on big ranches or when working horses will spark a memory... I get out my pen and paper asap

Oh, you might be wonderin' what I was doin in that bus station in Wickenburg, Arizona...

I won't tell you what state I left, but I will tell you there was a woman involved... how was I to know she was married to the sheriff!!