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Poem

He’s tender and caring in his own way,
From moving cattle to bucking hay;

He’s stubborn but gentle and hard as nails,
As he deals with all that his job entails;

He may seem distant but he’s filled with pride;
From the cattle he tends to the horse that he rides;

He’s defender of the small and weak,
And protector of the sick and meek;

He keeps the code of the cowboy way,
Standing steadfast from day to day;

Watching over and protecting from harm,
All of the beings that reside on his farm;

He’s sometimes reserved and far-away,
And he never really has too much to say;

Laugh lines cover his weathered face,
Something even time can’t erase;

He is a cowboy, born and bred,
From the boots on his feet to the hat on his head.

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