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A Little Poetry from 2012

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leanin' H

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Location
Western Utah Desert
I wrote this a few years back. Thought i'd share it with y'all

The Monument

I was riding across the desert
on a windswept, winter day,
minding my own p's and q's
as i went along my way.

When i noticed, there, a monument
on a ridgetop, made of stone.
Probably built by a lonely sheepherder,
out here wanderin' the desert alone.

I got to wonderin' why he did it?
Stackin' rocks on other rocks?
Maybe built it out of boredom,
or to chase away homesick thoughts.

It could of been used as a target, i guess
sighting in an old thirty thirty,
cause if a guy has enough prime coyote hides,
he can buy gifts for his girl, so purty.

Maybe it's way more simple than that,
he just did it as some joke.
To cause people who see, to scratch their heads
and confuse one simple cowpoke!

Or maybe, just maybe,
he wanted the whole world to know,
that one rock stackin' sheepherder,
on that ridge, plainly seen from below,

had left his own small legacy.
A sign, to show that he'd been.
A silent reminder of one man's life,
standing there in the sun and the wind.

His own little way of saying,
that i was here on the earth.
I might of been just a shepard,
but i had pride and i had worth.

So then i started wondering,
what'll i leave when i go?
I ain't never built a pile of rocks
to stand in the December snow.

I've never been very famous,
most folks don't know i exist.
Power and wealth have passed me by,
and friends? Well, that's a short list.

I've never been elected
and served my fellowman.
Except for maybe sharing my campfire,
and the coffee i boiled in a can.

I guess, i hope my own little ranch i build
will continue when i die,
and folks will kinda remember me,
when they look my kids in the eye.

And if my kids continue on
with these cows and piece of land,
when i die, a part of me still lives,
out here with the sage and the sand.

And though i've never been wealthy
or known by folks, far and near,
i'd like to think God knows who i am,
cause he's blessed my life, that much is clear.

Me and that lonely sheepherder
have something in common it's true,
living life out here on the west desert
under western skies of deep blue.

The milky way acts as our nightlight,
rough granite peaks, a church steeple.
A soft summer rain a baptism,
out here far from the masses of people.

And we both will leave our small legacy,
when we pass from this land so rough.
A pile of stones or a ranch for my kids,
for each of us, it is enough.

leanin' H
2012
1618420374941.png
 
I wrote this a few years back. Thought i'd share it with y'all

The Monument

I was riding across the desert
on a windswept, winter day,
minding my own p's and q's
as i went along my way.

When i noticed, there, a monument
on a ridgetop, made of stone.
Probably built by a lonely sheepherder,
out here wanderin' the desert alone.

I got to wonderin' why he did it?
Stackin' rocks on other rocks?
Maybe built it out of boredom,
or to chase away homesick thoughts.

It could of been used as a target, i guess
sighting in an old thirty thirty,
cause if a guy has enough prime coyote hides,
he can buy gifts for his girl, so purty.

Maybe it's way more simple than that,
he just did it as some joke.
To cause people who see, to scratch their heads
and confuse one simple cowpoke!

Or maybe, just maybe,
he wanted the whole world to know,
that one rock stackin' sheepherder,
on that ridge, plainly seen from below,

had left his own small legacy.
A sign, to show that he'd been.
A silent reminder of one man's life,
standing there in the sun and the wind.

His own little way of saying,
that i was here on the earth.
I might of been just a shepard,
but i had pride and i had worth.

So then i started wondering,
what'll i leave when i go?
I ain't never built a pile of rocks
to stand in the December snow.

I've never been very famous,
most folks don't know i exist.
Power and wealth have passed me by,
and friends? Well, that's a short list.

I've never been elected
and served my fellowman.
Except for maybe sharing my campfire,
and the coffee i boiled in a can.

I guess, i hope my own little ranch i build
will continue when i die,
and folks will kinda remember me,
when they look my kids in the eye.

And if my kids continue on
with these cows and piece of land,
when i die, a part of me still lives,
out here with the sage and the sand.

And though i've never been wealthy
or known by folks, far and near,
i'd like to think God knows who i am,
cause he's blessed my life, that much is clear.

Me and that lonely sheepherder
have something in common it's true,
living life out here on the west desert
under western skies of deep blue.

The milky way acts as our nightlight,
rough granite peaks, a church steeple.
A soft summer rain a baptism,
out here far from the masses of people.

And we both will leave our small legacy,
when we pass from this land so rough.
A pile of stones or a ranch for my kids,
for each of us, it is enough.

leanin' H
2012
View attachment 770
👏👏👏
 
Here is a poem I wrote for a dear friend and neighbor when he passed away. The family liked it well enough that they put it on his funeral card. What a peach of a fellow he was. We were blessed to be his neighbor. We were young and with no money. When he would do something very nice for us and we would ask how we could ever repay him, he would simply say "pass it on". That stuck with us and we have always strived to do so.
We loved him.

Bill always rode good horses
And everyone was his friend
Though his life is over
His spirit will never end.
For he leaves us all great memories
of days not long ago
And our lives have all been richer,
For having known him so.
He lived his life in kindness
An inspiration to us all
Though rather short in stature
As a man he stood real tall
With a twinkle in his blue eyes
And his hair so keenly white
He'd help you out of trouble
If he had to stay all night.
Loving dogs and kids and laughter
He'll make heaven quite a place
He'll get a big gang together
And really set the pace.

We're gonna miss you down here, Bill
It'll never be the same
As you go to meet your Maker
In God's Cowboy Hall of Fame.
 
Excellent ranch poetry Leanin H and Faster Horses.
Both of you do beautiful words with nice meter

A little something I just put together today

The War on the Ranch

It saddens me to see the war waged against the ranch
And it doesn't matter what and which legislative branch
Is waging this assault on the folks that help feed the USA
It is real and unfolding before our eyes this very day

Whether it is promoting falsehoods about ranch livelihood our beef
Or protecting some unknown and irrelevant species on the Great Barrier Reef
These unscientific and unfounded politically expedient nonfact
Are far-reaching from Texas to Oregon to the Australian Outback

Cows are blamed for everything from methane to acid rain
Believed only by those brainwashed fools with a stagnant brain
If beef is so bad then why do scientist struggle to create an all-veggie patty
That looks and taste like beef even resembles the big famous Mac Daddy

I fear the future of cattle ranches being forced to fold
Is the story, the one hidden from the people, and not being told
When ranches all fall into to the hands of the giant greedy corporations
And immigrants work as slaves, then generations of ranchers will say their salutations
 

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