Rod Nichols - Rest In Peace

[Liberty Belle]

With deep sadness, we learned that Rod Nichols died December 22, 2007.

Rod was a prolific writer, and in recent years he performed at many events and gatherings, including the recent National Cowboy Poetry Rodeo. A friend to all, he hosted a poetry board where he was unfailingly welcoming and encouraging to all who participated. He was the "official poet" of the Live with Jim Thompson show, and had appeared twice at the Heritage of the American West show.

He published three books of his poetry, the recent Old Trees 'n Tumbleweeds, Drover Diaries, and A Little Bit of Texas (recipient of the Will Rogers Medallion Award, and produced several CDs, In God's Hands, Yep, A Little Bit More of Texas, and Cowboy Christmas.

Rod was a part of CowboyPoetry.com from its earliest days, and was the first Lariat Laureate. His work is included on the first two editions of The BAR-D Roundup and in The Big Roundup anthology.

Rod's son, Michael, posted a message on Rod's poetry board: "Rod passed away suddenly late Saturday evening. Rod gained a great deal of enjoyment in reading your posts, and this page was very important to him. He was a devoted father, a loving husband, an outstanding teacher, an immensely talented artist and poet, and an extraordinary man. We will all greatly miss him. A memorial service is scheduled for Saturday, December 29, 2007 at 2:00 pm at Settegast-Kopf Funeral Home, 15015 Southwest Fwy, Sugar Land, TX 77478."

You can write to his wife Judith at P.O. Box 215, 6140 Hwy. 6, Missouri City, TX 77459.

http://www.cowboypoetry.com/rodnichols.htm

 

[Liberty Belle]

In memory of Rod - one of his poems that fits so well....

In God's Hands
(A cowboy's poem)

There was laughter and trail talk that evenin'
as the campfire had slowly grown dim,
then the usual joshin' and grumblin'
as the boys got themselves settled in.

I could see by the small fire still burnin'
that one of the boys was up late,
he was writin' a letter I reckoned
with his paper laid flat on a plate.

I watched for a spell then I drifted
these old bones just needed to rest,
and I slept through til daylight was breakin'
then washed off my face and got dressed.

Two biscuits and one cup of coffee
some sidemeat and breakfast was done,
a blanket then up with my saddle
firm cinched for a brisk mornin' run.

The day started off like the others
I'd chased down a couple of strays,
when I spotted some cowboys a-wavin'
so I headed my pony their way.

There's a hundred bad things that might happen
when a man's herdin' cattle it's said,
and a cowpoke had slipped from his saddle
been dragged, broke his neck and was dead.

There wasn't much talkin' among us
we each saw our end in his fate,
then I got a good look at that cowboy
the same one I'd seen stirrin' late.

I spotted the note he had written
in the dirt by his tattered old jeans,
"What's that?" asked a hand as I read it
"A poem he had written it seems."

"Well read it fer us," said another
"Jest what did the boy have to say?"
"It ain't very much," I responded
"but I think he would want it this way."

"There's a time in each life," the poem started
"when a cowboy has done all he can,
and it's then as he faces the long night
he puts all his cares in God's hands."

"That's it?" asked a soft-spoken cowboy
"That's it," was my only reply,
"That's enough," said a somber-faced trail boss
"and more when it comes time to die."

So we buried him there before sundown
with a marker of stone for his head,
the date of his passin' and three words
"In God's Hands" was all that it said.

© 2001, Rod Nichols

 

[Big Muddy rancher]

Thats sad news. I used this poem with his permission for the last round up at our SSGA convention a couple years ago.



Rod Nichols -- Headin' In

Some fellers favor sunup
just before their day begins,
while others favor eve'nin
when their day is at an end.

But this old cowboy's dif'rent
it's the way I've always been,
cause the time that gets me smilin'
is the time for headin' in.

With a day of work behind me
and before the sunset ends,
it's a quiet and peaceful feelin'
on the trail while headin' in.

There's a breeze that often comes up
as a warm, southwestern wind,
and a glow across the prairie
as I'm slowly headin' in.

Above a hawk is wheelin'
swoopin' down then up again,
as if he wants one final look
'fore he too is headin' in.

My saddle pal don't say much
but he tells me with a grin,
he feels about the same as me
with our ponies headin' in.

Someday this'll all be over
just the prairie, grass and wind,
I hope He'll let me pass this way
when it's time for headin' in.

Rod Nichols © Copyright 2000