mj, don't appreciate it until you read 'em!! <GGG>
Hope this isn't too far out of line:
Concrete Cowboy
Ben always was a cowboy, and folks oft thought him stranger,
For living life with Lash LaRue, Hoppy and the Ranger.
It matters not where his life was lived, and he had tales replete,
of well-mown lawns with ceramic fawns, and very near concrete.
No sir, he's a cowboy, though others may dispute,
Although he never swung a rope, he daily did commute.
Until that is, he quit the town, and to the High Plains did settle
Where he knew he'd prove himself, and all could see his mettle.
This tale tells of a hero made, at least as my mind sees it.
Of cowboy ways, and cold Spring days, and muddy maverick sneezes.
Valor they say, comes not from the way in which one does it,
but rather how well that others can tell, and the fur with which one can fuzz it.
His neighbor you see, of the Diamond Bar B, is very well known in these parts.
For the cattle tradition, there is no suspicion, that his rep is off of the charts.
But he was stove up right then, his leg in a pen, from being stomped by a bull.
All neighbors dropped by, as if on the sly, because his branding pen was full.
So did I, just to try to see if Ben's concrete cowboy skills were useful.
He was welcomed right in and the group treated Ben cheerful.
He watched a large heifer romp, by jump and by stomp, skillfully avoid a lasso;
and laughed with the group as the man with the rope tried vainly to catch her each pass-o.
I don't know why, but Ben never says die, and never misses a chance to sparkle.
Acting sublime, he picked up a twine, hanging next to the branding fire of charcoal.
He stepped in the corral, as if to boost his morale, and show the folks his skill.
When the heifer came by, as if on the fly, his noose her head did fill.
Now, he hadn't thought, till that rope came taut, that a calf was a powerful rocket,
but let me explain, as best as I can, how an arm can come out of its socket.
From zero to twenty, in no time flat, his ten-foot steps drove deep in the mud
until the furrow began where he hit the pan, and skidded behind with a thud.
Sliding along to the thrill of the throng, he rolled behind a fencepost;
luck looped the string to that stanchion thing, and the calf stopped for a toast.
A loop circled down with the air of a crown, the horse pulled tight with a step.
The cowboy stood flat and put the cow on its back, and told Ben thanks for his hep.
he stood from the slop, his attire aflop, and looked at the crowd, for some ego he was craving;
Not a single one laughed, though all saw his gaff; for later their mirth they were saving.
This concrete cowboy is now part of the group, their eyes twinkle, he can feel 'em;
As he swaggers by, he knows how to try, to teach a new way to head-and-heel 'em.
jim |
