Wednesday, September 13, 2006


Dad Poems: The Ride

The Ride

Harold Williams

My dad rode a big horse called Major

He was fast and he run like the breeze

He was a good cattle horse with the livestock

But he loved to run fast and free

Now I won’t say that Dad ever raced him

But all riders knew he couldn’t be beat

If such a challenge ever came up

Most riders just looked down at their feet

Now as a stock horse, he could cut quick

He could turn on a dime for a stray

If you didn’t sit deep in the saddle

You could find yourself flyin’ away

But one day on a drive they were makin’

A buck deer jumped from its’ bed

Major spun for the movement and follered

And Dad could pat that deer on the head

Now that made quite a stir with the riders

Cause few had seen such as that

A horse that could out run a buck deer

Against that, they would have all bet their hat

In time he became quite a legend

A horse that could run like the wind

Dad rode with pride on old Major

But the real story was just to begin

It was another drive near that same stretch of woods

When a coyote run from its’ den

Old Major saw movement and off like a flash

And a new story and a new ride begin

Dad’s lasso was whirlin’ from herdin’ the cattle

So he spun it and then let it fly

When that horse realized what was at the end of that rope

His eyes rolled up to the sky

In a fright he did run, completely out of control

And Dad hung on for his life

That horse cut a trail not even a mad man would take

And he done it without any strife

There were downed trees and gullies and brush piles he cleared

With that coyote flyin’ at the end of the rope

That horse turned it on and that coyote flew through the air

But his stride, that horse never broke

When it came to an end and that horse finally stopped

Dad set there and gasped for some air

As the riders came up they looked on in shock

That coyote was stripped of his hair

Dad told me, son, take my advice

If you ever find yourself in this way

You can run with the best, chase all the rest

But you put that damned lasso away


This is another poem written by my father.
It's about my Grandfather and it is a true story.
Both of those things really did happen just that way.
It's amazing.

He actually did run with the buck and reached out and touched him several times.
I don't know that he was whoopin', but I know my Grandfather and can just hear him cackling and hollering.

I've ridden a cutting horse before and you've really got to be well seated to stay on when you know you're turning on a dime like they do. I can't imagine the ride he must have taken with that coyote. My goodness!

Oh, the stories that I've grown up hearing about my Grandparents and Great Grandparents. Even my father has great stories of himself to tell.
I could listen to them all day.

now that you know it's a true story about my Grandfather,
Go back and read it again.

You see, I can remember my Grandfather teaching me to use a lasso.
I actually used to be pretty good.
The target of the beginner?
Well, first you just learn to whirl it.
It can be a painful process, but the kinks get worked out eventually.
It involves lots of stomping, temper tantrums in my case, swearing, and just plain throwing it down on the ground.
( You have to understand that my worst swear word was "Dang it")

Then throw it at your younger sibblings and cousins!
Of course, you don't actually catch them, but it's fun to chase them and make them think you're going to.

Then you graduate to a target.
And old wooden fence post with a horned skull on the top of it.
When you got proficient with it, you moved on to other things.

Like, once again, chasing your younger sibblings and cousins ... only now you can actually get them!!!!!
And tie them up!!!

I haven't thrown a lasso in a long time ... I'd guess it's been around 24 years since I've even held one.
I think I'm going to have to get me one and get to practicing again.
In fact, that's what I want for Christmas.
I want a lasso!
I already have a pair of leather gloves.

I'm going to learn all over again.
Just to say that I can.
Hot Diggety!

Love the poem and the story Ava.
I keep a file of poetry that I like 9not for publication) would you mind if I included this one? if this is OK could you please let me know your Grandfathers name too.
Love the poem and the story Ava.
I keep a file of poetry that I like (not for publication) would you mind if I included this one? if this is OK could you please let me know your Grandfathers name too.
Sure Peter!

That would be great!
Your grandfather's poem was just like reading a story. I loved it and I'm glad you are posting some of the things that made you happy as a child. I hope someone was reading this and will give you a lasso for Christmas.
Hi Sandy! Actually the poem was written by my father and it's about my grand father.

I hope someone gets me a lasso for Christmas too!!
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