My Grandpa was a for reals cowboy. He wore Wranglers, had a cattle ranch, had racks on his truck, wore a cowboy hat, and of course wrote cowboy poetry (and he was good at it!). After his ranching days were over, he build houses with my Dad (but the racks still stayed on the truck of course).
He was a hard worker, had a funny sense of humor, and loved his grandkids and great grandkids. He was always did what was right and respected others who did the same.
I feel like a lot of the creativity I have was passed to me from my Grandparents. And Im forever grateful for that!
He passed away yesterday at the old age of 92.
His poetry is classic. He wrote about what he knew: ranching, horses, cattle and bulls, and "damn environmentalists" and so many more cowboyish things.
I love his poems, they are actually pretty hilarious. This is one of my fav's. Read to the end, its great...
My neighbor Pierce bought a prize bull
His cow herd to improve,
Which made his calves wean heavier
He had things in the groove.
But then that prized bull lost his stuff
And became impotent,
Pierce called the Vet, said "Help this bull,
Because of what I've spent."
"To buy him and take care of him
Has sure cost me a lot.
And the program I have going here
Has just gone all to pot."
So then the Vet prescribed some stuff
That brouhgt that bull right back,
And he regained his influence
And got back on the track.
Some time later I had a bull
That went the same darned way,
So I got a hold of Pierce
To try to save the day.
And find what that prescription was
To restore my bull's power,
Because the program that I had
Was starting in to sour.
Old Pierce then said "I've lost the bottle,
Can't recall the stuff's name,
The main thing I remember is
It tastes like sugar cane."
Check out my cousin Julie's blog here for more on Grandpa and more poetry of course!