Long Childhoodold Poems
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The marshal saddled up as dawn broke over old Dodge City.
Upon town rabble and mean hombres he took no pity!
He donned his ten-gallon hat and strapped on his gun.
On his vest the marshals' badge gleamed in the rising sun!
Sheepskin chaps and fancy boots completed his dandy outfit.
He was a handsome dude - with the ladies he made quite a hit!
He mounted his horse Woody and took a ride about the town,
Ever on the lookout for desperados of notorious renown!
He took a break for a hearty breakfast of bacon and eggs,
Then continued on his rounds on the lookout for society's dregs.
Rowdy cowpokes galloped down Main Street on a toot.
Marshal Dan escorted them out of town in hot pursuit!
At high noon the peace of Dodge City was interrupted,
When a brawl at the Long Branch Saloon suddenly erupted!
Shooting began and Marshal Dan drew his peace-maker;
Two rowdy gun-slingers had a date with the undertaker!
With Marshal Dan, peace in Dodge City was guaranteed.
Danny dismounted his rocking horse Woody, his faithful steed.
It had been a tough day trying to be fair and impartial.
Now it was afternoon nap time for the little five-year old marshal!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Simple were the things that brought me so much joy,
Growin' up on the farm as a Hoosier country boy!
Barefoot, straw hat, patched overalls and summer tanned,
As free as a soarin' eagle as I roamed that prairie land!
Dad farmed the old homestead with teams of horses and mules.
He had a Massey-Harris tractor he used to tow heavier tools.
But to turn the sod he used his mules, old faithful Fred and Joe,
Who understood Dad's subtle commands of "gee, haw and whoa!"
He sat upon the brutal steel seat of his John Deere sulky plow,
Turnin' ten acres of soil a day, and now I wonder how!
Ah, what a pleasure to trot in that cool, fresh-turned furrow,
And wiggle my toes in the loam the shiny moldboard would burrow!
My old pal, Spooks, bounded hither and yon a-chasin' rabbits,
Of which there was a multitude, due to their promiscuous habits!
As the sulky plow turned the soil, I'd poke around with a stick,
To collect wiggly worms for feeshin' later in the ripplin' "crick".
Anon, Fred and Joe and the sulky plow were all retired,
Replaced by a Farmall tractor, shiny red and rubber tired.
Dad reluctantly gave up his sulky plow and bid it a sad adieu.
Alas, it was conscripted for scrap to aid in World War Two!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
The excitement built for weeks before rabbit huntin' season!
Not to partake of this annual Hoosier ritual was akin to treason!
For certain, on the first day of huntin' season, as a general rule,
Men called in sick to the boss and all the boys skipped school!
Our old hound, Spooks, sensed the excitement as well,
Eager to chase those wily varmints o'er fields and dell.
Thankfully, due to the rabbits' unusually prolific habits,
The old farmstead teemed with dozens and dozens of rabbits!
Too young to shoulder a gun, my job was to carry the sack,
Heavily laden with game upon my poor, achin' back!
Spooks brought the late Mister Rabbit and laid him at my feet.
I'd tell him, "Atta boy, Spooks!" and give him a doggie treat!
I reckon along about the age of twelve, my pleadin' with Pa was won.
At last I was allowed to hunt with the men and tote a gun!
The first time I fired the old twelve-gauge, it set me on my rear!
Old-timers laughed so hard, to their eyes it brought a tear!
I recall so many precious moments when a Hoosier lad,
Among them was doing "man" things with my dear old Dad.
Now in the autumn of my life, the gun leans against the wall.
I have no desire to harm God's creatures anymore at all!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Pretty little girls in pretty little pink dresses
Cowboys and Indians , Cop's and Robbers
Scraped knees from climbing trees
Pretty little girls in pretty little pink dresses
Smudged in mums make up wearing her best high heels
Turned into crappy old tools in a rickety old wood shed
And headaches in her head just before bed
Both lives I have lead and too this myself said
If I had the option of getting rid of the shed and headache in bed
Id dig out my old sheriffs badge and walk my old beat
In the hope of experiencing that childhood feeling one can only describe
As being very , very intimidated
By pretty little girls in pretty little pink dresses