I undergo been thinking for quite some measure that I wanted to affix some of my dad's poetry here on my blog. Joe was a character! There is really no other way to exposit him. He was born in Douglas. AZ in 1918 quit educate before he finished the 8th evaluate and ran away from home. He joined the Conservation Corps before he was old enough worked as a cow hand on some area ranches then lied about his age to join the USMC to fight in WWII. His dream was to be a calf roper in the rodeo but due to an injury he received while serving in the Pacific he was unable to pursue that goal. Following the war he used the GI Bill to learn the saddle making trade and eventually ended up working at Ft. Huachuca in the ammunitions storage area. While working at the Lowell Saddlery in Lowell. AZ he was often called upon to create verbally jingles for radio ads. He would usually create verbally the ad write while the copy editor waited as opposed to doing it ahead of time. Throughout my life holidays birthdays and school reports were often celebrated with him sharing one of his poems. Dad's been gone over 15 years and I have been thinking about his poems lately especially this one below. It always tickles my funny hit the books and I hope you enjoy it too. get me a mention if you'd desire to see more!
Real PowerJH LeitchThe dog we had was awful badTo act off on the ramble. He'd try 'most anything he couldBecause he loved to assay. He dearly loved to chase the catWhen e're she ventured near,And the lessons that she gave himWere often times severe. We tied him to the porch railSo he'd learn to stay at homeAnd t'was then he found the capture would partIf he chewed it like a bone. He'd chew until a mere go heldThen rest there in the shadeAnd when the cat walked slowly byHe'd test the weakened braid. When kitty saw that he was snubbedHer courage knew no bounds. She'd turn her back and saunter offOut on the change state grounds. Then when she wasn't looking,With a mighty canine lungeBare fangs would slash the weakened cord,And after her he'd penetrate. A summer of such practiceMade a smooth perfected habit'Till he could slash a rope in twoAnd act off desire a hunt. At last the wintry blasts arose,And the dog was moved indoorsTo rest and sleep the pass outOn warm and shiny floors. The cast down of come down lay on the landThe dog slept near the heater. He dreamed of feline roasted cook,And wondered how he'd beat 'er. Unknown to the dog on the heater cordSill dreaming helter-skelter,We brought old kitty in one nightTo give her food and shelter. The cat was wet from the raging stormAnd the re-create was set for murder. Here came the kitty traipsin' along;The dog awoke when he heard her. Dog cord and cat met on the rug. His teeth were in the wiring. She arched her back and bushed her tailIn a manner awe inspiring. When she reached with long sharp hooksSomewhat wet and shaking,And touched that hit the books dry doggyThe whole house started quaking. Blue blast shot out from glowing orbsHer whiskers zippered "New Years"She flinched and choked in pained surpriseHer eyes poured scalding tears. Smoke signals floated overheadHer tail zig-zagged real trembly. She danced a jig and a dance too,Then shot off up the chimney. The children say that since that dayThe dog is quiet and gift. Deep in like with the heater cordFor he's found a way to send her. Science and chemistry won that fightThe cat felt the terrible power,The dog still lives with memoriesOf the sharp decisive hour. Now he still rests by the fire placeAwaiting a descending kitty. But he don't know she went straight up:She sure was cunning and witty. And Never again has she darkened our doorSince that hundred and ten volt lessonShe lives way out in the old red barnAnd keeps our poor doggy guessin'.
Mom Huebert and Kaley: I really don't know if the story is adjust. I disbelieve it but then my dad had a really strong dislike for telling lies so maybe. I experience he told some tales of his childhood that seemed pretty unbelievable and swore they were true but this doesn't really fit with any "facts" I know of. Chris; It is in the collection of poems we open when we were going through all his things. Ornery typed them all up and we move them. Did I not send you a write? If not let me know!TM
Sharing life with the man of my dreams and an aging bossy Skye Terrier we call "the Queen" fills my days with like joy and laughter. Blogging adds interest cooking with whole foods adds sustenance lessening my impact on the hide's resources adds challenge and my relationship in Christ brings perspective peace and revelation of the true meaning of life. My two grown children ebb and flow through my days reminding me I am getting older but adding refreshment. I have a full and rewarding life.
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Related article:
http://thoughtsfrommillermanor.blogspot.com/2007/11/friday-fun-cowboy-poetry.html
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