A True Cowboy
© By Rough Riding Tender Cowboy
He never rode a bucking bull,
Or won a silver saddle.
He made his living tenden beef
A critter you call cattle.
He never owned a store bought suit
For Sunday go to meeten.
And always used a firm hand shake
For friends that he was greeten.
My pa just called him happy
And he worked for us for years.
He seldom seemed to grumble
And never shed no tears.
He taught me how to rope and ride,
And taught me right from wrong.
He showed me how to strum a tune
And sing a country song.
He never took him self a wife,
Or a special lady friend
But I knew every Friday night
With Widow Johnson he would spend.
Then one night the angles came
And took old Hap away
Though I was just a youngun
But I shant forget the day.
A lonely cross marked the place
Where Hap was laid to rest
But every week a fresh picked rose
To the wooden cross was pressed.
Then one week no flower came
And why I’d have to say
It seems it was the very week
That widow Johnson passed away.
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