Little baby on the way,
Getting bigger every day,
Kicking mommy here and there,
God please listen to our prayer.
Keep our baby safe and strong,
Let his time with us be long,
Help us teach him right form wrong,
And we shall praise thee all day long.
This little on, though not yet here,
Is loved so much, has grown quite dear.
Delivery time is growing near,
That's why we pray our plea you'll hear.
Please help up Lord, we pray to Thee
With thankful heart, on bended knee,
To raise this child that he might be,
A happy child because of me

Beside this stream, life is so serene.
Sitting here watching water tumble,
a time for thought; ideas to ponder

Life is no different than this stream.
It moves along, or so it seems.

Its path is straight til down yonder where it splits
and begins to wander.
So like Life, or so it seems

It is good to dream, sitting by this stream.

I remember a time not that far in the past,
A time one would only wish to last.
A time filled with laughter,love and peace,
when things all moved in a harmoniuos pace.

I reminisce times spent in the sun on grass;
The innocence adorn with childhood grace.
As agile monkeys we did from tree to tree,
Our spirits did for then fell free.

From cheek to cheek the sun did rise,
Sneaking around like mischievous mice.
The dew of joy that came from the sun,
As fathers call abode their sons.

And around the smoke did find mothers
And daughters,
Around the nests, sounds of thrilled laughter.
not too far, some toiled for bounty,
not far off some harvest in plenty.

In rows and columns they sit to hear,
On floors, yards or grounds with no fear.
The sweet smell of nature's flowers,
Lil mice know it's almost that hour.

Like warning the sounds from the savanna do hear,
Cubs, kids, chicks do seek lear,
The golden glow of the sun doth ray,
Helping all in its shade find way.

In familiar bosoms heads lay to rest,
Each and everyone feeling at their best.
In a land where fantasies are but no dreams,
And reality none but a far off gleam.

Times like these I wish I were back,
But my troubles all do stack.
Like lights years I wish I would but beam,
To solace, a hermit with no dreams.

But I know that my day will come,
When my life will be free from this eucalyptus gum.
Back to the days of childhood innocence,
When all will be pure and innocent.

There was a knock at the door. It was a small boy, about six years old. Something of his had found its way into my garage, he said, and he wanted it back.
Upon opening the garage door, I noticed two additions: a baseball and a broken window sporting a baseball-sized hole.
"How do you suppose this ball got in here?" I asked the boy.
Taking one look at the ball, one look at the window, and one look at me, the boy exclaimed, "Wow! I must have thrown it right through that hole!"

The Old Chisholm Trail

The origin of this song is unknown. There are several
thousand verses to it -- the more whiskey the more
verses. Every puncher knows a few more verses. Sung
from the Canadian line to Mexico.

Come along, boys, and listen to my tale
I'll tell you of my trouble on the old Chisholm trail.

Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya, youpy ya,
Coma ti yi youpy, youpy ya.

I started up the trail October twenty-third,
I started up the trail with the 2-U herd.

Oh, a ten-dollar hoss and a forty-dollar saddle, --
And I'm goin' to punchin' Texas cattle

I woke up one mornin' afore daylight
And afore I sleep the moon shines bright

Old Ben Bolt was a blamed good boss,
But he went to see the girls on a sore-backed hoss.

Old Ben Bolt was a fine old man
And you'd know there was whiskey wherever he would land.

My hoss throwed me off at the creek called Mud,
My hoss throwed me off round the 2-U herd.

Last time I saw him he was going 'cross the level,
A-kickin' up his heels and a-runnin' like the devil.

It's cloudy in the west, a-lookin' like rain,
And my damned old slicker's in the wagon again.

Crippled my hoss, I don't know how,
Ropin' at the horns of a 2-U cow.

We hit Caldwell and we hit her on the fly,
We bedded down the cattle on the hill close by.

No chaps, no slicker, and it's pourin' down rain
And I swear, by God, I'll never night-herd again

Feet in the stirrups and seat in the saddle,
I hung and rattled with them long-horn cattle.

Last night I was on guard and the leader broke the ranks,
I hit my horse down the shoulders and I spurred him in the flanks.

The wind commenced to blow and the rain began to fall,
Hit looked, by grab, like we was goin' to lose 'em all.

I jumped in the saddle and grabbed holt of the horn,
Best blamed cow-puncher ever was born.

I popped my foot in the stirrup and gave a little yell,
The tail cattle broke and the leaders went as well.

I don't give a damn if they never do stop;
I'll ride as long as an eight-day clock.

Foot in the stirrup and hand on the horn,
Best damnded cowboy ever was born.

I herded and hollered and I done very well,
Till the boss said, "Boys, just let 'em go to hell."

Stray in the herd, and the boss said kill it,
So I shot him in the rump with the handle of the skillet.

We rounded 'em up and put 'em on the cars,
And that was the last of the old Two Bars.

Oh it's bacon and beans 'most every day, --
I'd as soon be eatin' prairie hay.

I'm on my horse and I'm goin' at a run,
I'm the quickest shootin' cowboy that ever pulled a gun.

I went to the wagon to get my roll,
To come back to Texas, dad-burn my soul.

I went to the boss to draw my roll,
He had it figgered out I was nine dollars in the hole.

I'll sell my outfit just as soon as I can,
I won't punch cattle for no damned man.

Goin' back to town to draw my money,
Goin' back home to see my honey.

With my knees in the saddle and my seat in the sky,
I'll quit punchin' cows in the sweet by and by.

Drive a motor car
Drive a motor car
Pom a Pom a Pom a Pom.........
Drive a motor car
Hammer on the nail
Rat a tat - rat a tat
Hammer on the nail
Sit and sing a song
Sit and sing a song
Lala.. la...la..la..
Sit and sing a song
Polish on your shoes
Polish on your shoes
Rub a dub rub a dub

Wedding Poems