Grass and Water

His name was John Paul Slavens, an old time buckaroo when he was young, he’d made a hand, knew just what to do. He had a soft hand with horses, he knew the ways of cow He treated women like a lady, not like men do now. He was good with "youngins" and when the work was done he’d tell a story , spin a yarn, have a little fun. He was never mean or surly, because he’d come to know The good book’s always right, we’ll reap just what we sow. JP worked with us kids, he’d smile the times we’d fail He’d keep us working and learning, riding the cowboy trail. And sometimes during the lessons, one of us kids would slip into a place a cow had been and left her little... "chip". JP’d laugh when we made a "face" slap his knee a time or two He’d say, "It’s only grass and water!" as we tried to wipe off that "goo". Well time moved on, his winter came, I watched Old J.P. die I know he’s gone to Heaven, riding for the "Boss" in the sky. Up there the water’s always good, the grass is stirrup high He’s a happy cowhand, riding in the sweet by and by. As I’ve traveled down life’s trail, I’ve "slipped" a time or two And more than once I’ve found myself, "stepping’ in brown goo". I think back to my childhood with Old J.P. showing me the way of thinking and working like a cowboy, I can still hear him say; "It’s only grass and water!" I realize all ain’t lost, I pick up the pieces, try again, disregard the cost. The worst probably won’t kill you, tomorrow’s another day, just pick yourself up, dust yourself off, try different way. I’ve begun to realize what I wish would go to another Is just my little trail to ride... It’s all just Grass and Water!