The smell of grease hangs heavy in the air like a nauseating perfume.
The flywheel creaks like an old man with arthritis.
The old windmill stands black against the gray sky like a skeleton.
The taste of grit in my mouth makes me want a chew of Redman.
As the water flows out of the lead pipe a deep feeling of satisfaction warms my
tired body.
by Oscar Jake
Auker
Haiku
Old buzzard soaring high
dropping down to weep and cry
all over his lunch.
by Oscar Jake Auker
Oscar helps with the gather early in the morning.
My
Heroes
by Oscar Jake Auker
Red Steagall is my hero.
He understands my cowboy world and
I hear it in the poems he writes.
He doesn't say that the cowboy is a dying breed;
He knows we are still alive.
Red is a buddy, someone who knows where I live.
Ricky Clark is my hero.
He treats me like a man, not a little boy.
I admire him because when he was twelve, he quit school and went to breaking
broncs.
I want to be like Ricky and never disappoint him.
Ricky is a role model, a good hand, and always in the right place.
Chris LeDoux is my hero.
He rocks my cowboy world.
The songs he sings, some are serious, some are sad.
Some are "Saturday night have a good time" songs.
I spend a lot of time in my room, alone with Chris LeDoux.
I sing along and my world is a "cooler" place.
Will James is my hero.
Hours and hours I have spent lost in his world.
I want to talk, walk, ride, eat like the cowboys in his stories.
I want to make horses like "Big-Enough" and "Smoky."
Will James makes me crave hard work.
He writes about a time long gone, but about the man I want to be someday.
Dad is my hero.
Yesterday I was waiting for him to come down and help me saddle up.
I thought, "Well, I can do this alone."
But every time I got the saddle up on him, the saddle pad was whompy-jawed, then
Dad showed up and helped me fix it.
That is the story of my life.
Dad is there, my teacher, my guidance, and my friend.
Outlaw
Stickhorses by Oscar Jake Auker
The tension was high.
The young cowboy paused, rope in hand.
Quick he let it fly;
The loop fell short-- unlike he planned.
A gleam in his eye,
He coils his twine and lets it sail.
It goes oh, so high,
And snags a horse, minus his tail!
He yanks like his Dad
And creeps up with muscles straining.
He puts on the pad
And crawls up to begin training.
The horse chins the moon;
You could hear snorts for miles around.
The boy flew very soon!
He dug his nose in the hard ground.
He ran in crying,
Leaving his stick horse in the yard.
Mom's arms were loving...
She had pie and milk for her pard.
Read about a Greasy cowboy .
|
Click on brand to link to another ranch's information. |
|||
 |
 |
|
|
return to Ranches.org
