Happy Birthday Clayton!
The little cowpunchercan barely see
beneath the brim of his hat.
His boots are scuffed--
one toe is out,
his rope's broke in on the cat.
“My son,” you say,
“grow up to be
whatever you desire.”
But bless my soul
if he ain't got
some genuine “Cowboy Fire”!
© Susan Marxer, 1990
No comments:
Post a Comment