(Sing to the tune of “Clementine”)
In a cabin on the prairie
lived a girl the age of nine.
And the label on her stable
said her horse was Valentine.
He’s her darling, he’s her darling,
he’s her darling Valentine.
Kind and clever friend forever,
and she calls him Valentine.
’Cross the prairie swept a shadow—
seven bandits in a line.
Fierce and fright’ning, fast as lightning,
come to capture Valentine.
Now the girl yelled out in anger
at the vile and vicious swine.
And she hurried, mad and worried,
to her precious Valentine.
Oh, she chased them, and she roped them,
and she wrapped them up in twine.
And she packed them, and she stacked them
on the back of Valentine.
As she rode them to the sheriff,
she was singing soft and fine,
“Here’s a lesson: Don’t be messin’
with my darling Valentine.
“He’s my darling, he’s my darling,
he’s my darling Valentine.
Kind and clever, and I’ll never leave
my darling Valentine.”
Text © Eric Ode, reprinted from Tall Tales of the Wild West (And a Few Short Ones), published by Meadowbrook Press. Illustration © Ben Crane. Any copying or use of this poem or illustration without consent is unlawful.
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