Listen and Read
Mag's songs and poems
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One Boot In the Stirrup
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Bernadette Ducharme
•from Bernadette Ducharme's album "One Boot In the Stirrup"
Hoof Prints In the Snow
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Bernadette Ducharme
•from Bernadette Ducharme's album "One Boot In the Stirrup"
Beyond the Trail of Tears
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Randy Smith
•from Randy and Rai Smith's album "a little r&r"
Big Muddy
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Randy Smith
•from Randy and Rai Smith's album "a little r&r"
I Dream of Riding Fast Horses
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Stephen Harrington
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit"
•sung by Stephen Harrington of the Mountain Saddle Band
Re-Riding-Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Al Owchar
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit"--sung by Al Owchar
Western Spirit-Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney/ Music:Almeda Bradshaw
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit", sung by Almeda Bradshaw
Cowboy Comfort - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
On The Road to Williams Lake - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
Winter Range - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
Singing the Songs of the West
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Abe Zacharias
•from Mag’s poetry album "Passin' It On" , sung by Abe Zacharias
__________________________________________________
READ a selection of Mag's poems:
From a Sampler of Mag Mawhinney's Poems :
CHILDHOOD IN THE CARIBOO
JEANS
SOMETHIN' ABOUT A COWBOY
CHILDHOOD IN THE CARIBOO
""Childhood in the Cariboo" is one of the first poems I wrote
and it talks about my roots. "
In nineteen hundred and forty nine,
we lived in a wonderful place
where I could skip, and jump and run,
so free, with the wind in my face.
I'd call "Hello!" across the valley
to a friend who was waiting there.
She'd call back after the echo
in the cool, crisp mountain air.
It was thirteen miles to the schoolhouse
and a cowboy drove the bus.
We'd yodel and sing, he didn't mind,
he'd just hum along with us.
We'd play "Run Sheep Run" and "Frozen Tag",
slide on cardboard down the hills,
or jump on top of the sawdust pile
down at the lumber mill.
The hired hand in the bunkhouse
would play his guitar on his knee--
"I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"
was the song he'd sing for me.
We'd play "cowboys and Indians"
with only a stick for a gun
and swingin' from trees on a windy day
was always lots of fun.
We'd ride atop the horses
as they were led home from the woods
and the stone-boat was my chariot,
haulin' water and other goods.
We'd use our imaginations
for all the things we did,
in nineteen hundred and forty-nine
when I was just a kid.
JEANS
I've gotta give a hand to that smart-thinkin' man
who invented those denim blue jeans.
They're made in all sizes, with low and high rises
and everywhere else in between.
There's blues in all shades with deliberate fades,
there's even holes in some of those jeans.
Some are fancied-up duds with rhinestones and studs
and some styles made only for teens.
But when you are older and gravity takes over,
it's pretty hard to get a true fit.
If they're snug at the hip, then the zipper won't zip
and circulation cuts off when you sit.
I've changed since I've wed, I've got middle-aged spread
with a butt that is no longer there.
If the waistline fits right and not feelin' too tight,
then the sides sorta flap in the air.
So I searched all around and I finally found
a style that is made overseas,
but I'm sad to report that the legs are too short
and the hemline's way up by my knees.
But, technology came through with somethin' brand new,
now I'm wearin' those spandex kinda jeans
'cause they fit 'round my middle and stretch just a little
for those sourdough biscuits and beans.
SOMETHIN' ABOUT A COWBOY
There's somethin' about a cowboy
not shown on a Hollywood screen;
it's more than a John Wayne image
'cause it's somethin' that can't be seen.
It's not about the clothes that he's wearin'
and it's not about the style of his stride.
It's somethin' unique that he's born with
and it's hidden deep down inside.
But he shares it with a mornin' sunrise
and with critters roamin' free in the hills
and he shares it with a star-studded sky
on those nights when everything's still.
He shares it with a high-flyin' eagle
and he shares it with the horse that he rides
and it's there on the range durin' roundup
with his dog runnin' close by his side.
There's just somethin' about a cowboy
that is more than a Hollywood role--
it's known as "the western spirit"
and it's found in a cowboy's soul.
One Boot In the Stirrup
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Bernadette Ducharme
•from Bernadette Ducharme's album "One Boot In the Stirrup"
Hoof Prints In the Snow
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Bernadette Ducharme
•from Bernadette Ducharme's album "One Boot In the Stirrup"
Beyond the Trail of Tears
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Randy Smith
•from Randy and Rai Smith's album "a little r&r"
Big Muddy
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney / Music: Randy Smith
•from Randy and Rai Smith's album "a little r&r"
I Dream of Riding Fast Horses
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Stephen Harrington
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit"
•sung by Stephen Harrington of the Mountain Saddle Band
Re-Riding-Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Al Owchar
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit"--sung by Al Owchar
Western Spirit-Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney/ Music:Almeda Bradshaw
•from Mag’s album "Western Spirit", sung by Almeda Bradshaw
Cowboy Comfort - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
On The Road to Williams Lake - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
Winter Range - poem written and read by Mag,
• from her poetry album "Passin' It On"
Singing the Songs of the West
Lyrics: Mag Mawhinney /Music:Abe Zacharias
•from Mag’s poetry album "Passin' It On" , sung by Abe Zacharias
__________________________________________________
READ a selection of Mag's poems:
From a Sampler of Mag Mawhinney's Poems :
CHILDHOOD IN THE CARIBOO
JEANS
SOMETHIN' ABOUT A COWBOY
CHILDHOOD IN THE CARIBOO
""Childhood in the Cariboo" is one of the first poems I wrote
and it talks about my roots. "
In nineteen hundred and forty nine,
we lived in a wonderful place
where I could skip, and jump and run,
so free, with the wind in my face.
I'd call "Hello!" across the valley
to a friend who was waiting there.
She'd call back after the echo
in the cool, crisp mountain air.
It was thirteen miles to the schoolhouse
and a cowboy drove the bus.
We'd yodel and sing, he didn't mind,
he'd just hum along with us.
We'd play "Run Sheep Run" and "Frozen Tag",
slide on cardboard down the hills,
or jump on top of the sawdust pile
down at the lumber mill.
The hired hand in the bunkhouse
would play his guitar on his knee--
"I'm So Lonesome I Could Cry"
was the song he'd sing for me.
We'd play "cowboys and Indians"
with only a stick for a gun
and swingin' from trees on a windy day
was always lots of fun.
We'd ride atop the horses
as they were led home from the woods
and the stone-boat was my chariot,
haulin' water and other goods.
We'd use our imaginations
for all the things we did,
in nineteen hundred and forty-nine
when I was just a kid.
JEANS
I've gotta give a hand to that smart-thinkin' man
who invented those denim blue jeans.
They're made in all sizes, with low and high rises
and everywhere else in between.
There's blues in all shades with deliberate fades,
there's even holes in some of those jeans.
Some are fancied-up duds with rhinestones and studs
and some styles made only for teens.
But when you are older and gravity takes over,
it's pretty hard to get a true fit.
If they're snug at the hip, then the zipper won't zip
and circulation cuts off when you sit.
I've changed since I've wed, I've got middle-aged spread
with a butt that is no longer there.
If the waistline fits right and not feelin' too tight,
then the sides sorta flap in the air.
So I searched all around and I finally found
a style that is made overseas,
but I'm sad to report that the legs are too short
and the hemline's way up by my knees.
But, technology came through with somethin' brand new,
now I'm wearin' those spandex kinda jeans
'cause they fit 'round my middle and stretch just a little
for those sourdough biscuits and beans.
SOMETHIN' ABOUT A COWBOY
There's somethin' about a cowboy
not shown on a Hollywood screen;
it's more than a John Wayne image
'cause it's somethin' that can't be seen.
It's not about the clothes that he's wearin'
and it's not about the style of his stride.
It's somethin' unique that he's born with
and it's hidden deep down inside.
But he shares it with a mornin' sunrise
and with critters roamin' free in the hills
and he shares it with a star-studded sky
on those nights when everything's still.
He shares it with a high-flyin' eagle
and he shares it with the horse that he rides
and it's there on the range durin' roundup
with his dog runnin' close by his side.
There's just somethin' about a cowboy
that is more than a Hollywood role--
it's known as "the western spirit"
and it's found in a cowboy's soul.