"Cowboy Raised"

Raised out near the kudzu,

And the honey-suckle vines,

Where bodock posts are planted,

Marking those fence lines.

Where Sid and Little Henry,

And all the others came,

To pitch hay and work cattle,

We sweated through the same.

The beagles filled the back yard,

My Dad kept a pack,

For running those old rabbits,

And bring some supper back.

The cattle trucks were runnin’,

All day and all night,

Sometimes the driver woke me up,

To load him up all right.

The garden was an acre large,

Tomatoes, peas, and corn,

Two full rows of butterbeans,

Squash and okra born.

Always fed a hog or two,

Killed when it got cold,

I was stuffing sausage links,

When I was five years old.

Showed my calves in 4-H,

State and county show,

Took off from school that whole week,

Went to the rodeo.

Kept ten usin’ horses,

Mostly sorrels and bays,

Mine was a pretty buckskin,

The one I rode most days.

Cattle here and yonder,

At home and on leased land,

It took a lot of riding,

You had to make a hand.

An Alabama cowboy,

Raised in the south you see,

But just about as western,

As a southern boy can be.

I’m thankful for my raisin’,

With God who was right there,

I learned He was my Savior,

The love of Jesus share.

I pray that God and country,

Is something we don’t lose,

The land and all its blessings,

The life that we must choose.

Trust in the Lord and do good. Then you will live safely in the land and prosper.” (Ps. 37:3, NLT)

Art by Tim Cox, timcox.com. Used by permission. Thanks, Tim, an dGod bless you.