Cowpoke Pete
I met a lanky ol' feller th' other day,
An' I want ter tell ya'll about 'im if'n I may.
An' ol' slouch hat was pulled down on his pate,
An' he ambled along at a leisurely gait.
Slightly bowed legs says he'd spent years in th' saddle.
His steely-eyed glare would make a rattlesnake skedaddle!
His flowin' mustaches drooped down b'low his jaw.
In his cheeks wuz a huge wad uv terbaccy chaw!
He wuz leadin' a handsome cattle cuttin' cayuse.
Let me tell ya'll uv his skill with a stream of terbaccy juice.
Why, its been told 'round these parts fer years,
That frum fifty paces he kin pin back a jack rabbit's ears!
"Well, it's time to go ter work", rails the boss,
An' he climbs aboard his good and faithful hoss.
Ridin' all day long, th' fences to mend, and,
Gittin' ready to round up the dogies to brand!
Pete tol' me he'll never herd cows in a pick-up truck,
Nor eat grub frum no fancy eatery fer chuck.
He'll keep ridin' th' range on his devoted ol' horse,
Cowboyin' th' ol' ways with absolutely no remorse!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
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