Hank hired on fer a dollar a day an' found.
He wuz knowed as th' best bronc buster around.
They wuz allus a roll-yer-own a-danglin' frum his lips,
An' he wore his jeans an' chaps low on his hips!
He wuz lean an' lank an' had spent years in th' saddle,
As bow-legged as pliers, spending so much time astraddle!
Wearin' an ol' slouch hat an' well-worn boots,
He'd rode many a wild bronc out uv rodeo chutes!
"Thar stands th' orn'riest critter alive!" th' boss implied.
"Thar ain't no mustang 'round I cain't tame!" Hank replied.
Other cowpokes ambled to th' corral to enjoy th' show,
An' with knowin' grins watched Hank earn his dough!
Th' bronc jes stood there snortin' with fire in his eyes.
Hank could see trouble! Boys, wuz he in fer a su'prise!
Sech hossflesh he'd never rode! He'd never seen sech gyrations!
His ol' bones had never experienced sech sensations!
He wuz throwed, stomped an' wedged agin' th' fence.
With his pals cheerin' him on an' things a-gittin' tense,
He 'lowed, "Boys, I give up! He's beat me good!
I reckon I'd better find myself anuther livelihood!"
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired (© All Rights Reserved)
Categories:
sech, cowboy-western
Form: Rhyme
I think that I shall never see
A cowboy that eats toe-foo—
Sech a dern thang jest could not be
In this ol’ bunkhouse crew!
Real men eats beef an’ pork an’ beans—
And all thangs within their reach—
Us real cowpokes drink coffee black—
Turn noses up at quiche!
Veggies should stay in ranch gardens—
These lips will taste no yogurt!
Good stew and biscuits make amends—
Seaweed makes bellies hurt!
Give us jerky or give us death—
Give us beans till we’re all blue—
But with all your strength and your breath—
Don’ serve us no toe-foo!
Categories:
sech, cowboy-western, food, funny, social,
Form: Cowboy Poetry