wrote a poem.

ronaldj

ronaldj

Senior Member
Location
the Thumb
Grandpas old Red Truck
Gramps old red truck sets out in the back shed.
One tires flat, the others have little tread.
Tail gates a little rusty, held in pace by wire,
In the bed lays a shovel and the flat spare tire.
When I think of grandpa’s truck memories come to mind,
I would set on his lap, and drive some of the time.
He worked the gas and clutch peddle, I was much too small,
As he “let” me drive “ole red”, I felt the biggest of them all.
Little brother and little sister in the back they would set,
Never out on the road just down the lane a bit.
Oats, wheat and beans, the truck hauled to the mill,
Sitting on his lap, driving, was the greatest thrill.
she’ll carry twenty bales of hay or fifteen bags of corn.
There’s a scrape on the bumper, where the bull once dragged his horn,
there are no more rides to town, no carrying heavy loads.
no more bouncing around, as we traveled gravel roads,
For the old red trucks kind of faded, won’t start if you tried,
Yet, time with my grandpa and his truck, gives thrills I cannot hide.
Ronald J. Curell Dec. 2019​
 

Thanks for sharing your poem Ronald, I liked it very much.
 

There are several books of 'Cowboy Poetry' which you may find of interest. Some of them are the real deal. I've read one,
found it very enjoyable. I've seen them at new retail book stores, have yet to locate one in used book store-it's a matter of money.
 
Ruthann talked about grandma getting run over by a reindeer, here is a little something I wrote back in 2009....
Santa got shot down over Bagdad,
flying on his way to Tel Aviv,
They say it may have been a rouge missile,
the CIA’s involved-I do believe.

From roof top to roof top, he was going,
and the winter wind it was a blowing,
On the radar screen he was not showing,
and a heavy laden sleigh the reindeer were-a- towing.

He was out spreading Christmas cheer,
Flying to and fro with the reindeer,
But then on the radar he did appear,
Slipped into the no-fly-zone I do fear.

And Santa got shot down over Bagdad,
Flying on his way to Tel Aviv,
They say it may have been a rouge missile,
The CIA’s involved- I do believe.

They scrambled F-12 and F-16s,
With f20s and helicopters in between,
The sky was filled with fire power,
As ol’ Santa-reached the bewitching hour.

Now into the desert he did crash,
Bent and broken runners with a smash,
Him lying there with a disheveled sash,
For the border patrol, just would not let him pass…

and Santa got shot down over Bagdad,
flying on his way to Tel Aviv,
they say it may have been rouge missile,
the CIA’s involved I do believe.

So we need to get his paper work in order,
And stop the harassment at the border,
While you may not be a Santa supporter
But shooting him down is just too big an order…

And Santa got shot down over Bagdad,
Flying on his way to Tel Aviv,
They say it was a rouge missile,
The CIA’s involved I do believe.

Ronald J. Curell
2009​
 

You must log in or register to reply here.

Back
Top