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Thermopolis, Wyoming
About John A. "Ringo" Cook

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A Boy's Dream

As I see him sittin' there on the edge of that bed
I think of all the wisdom and knowledge gathered in his head
All the experience from hard lessons learned
Rough horses, hard work, and the women that left him burned
As I see him reach for his boots off to the side
I know he wears them and his hat all with pride
He walks into the tack house and picks an old saddle up off the floor
He walks over to the grey and throws it on like he's done a thousand times before
He isn't puttin' on a show, he sure ain't actin'
Everything he does is like a natural reaction
He was born a cowboy and will go out the same way
I know his day is comin' but when, no one can say
He's lived a long life and done a lot of things you see
I just hope I listen and learn when he talks to me
I admire him for everything he's done
Lord knows it's been tough and not all fun
Sittin' round the house with really nothing to do
Brother says he wants to be a cop, then asks me, "How about you?"
I think about it long and hard, again and again
Then I turn towards the old cowboy and say "I want to be just like him."

John A. Cook
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.



They say there ain't a bronc he cain't ride
Whenever someone says his name, they say it with pride

To talk to him, he's just like one of the guys
But even then, he's a hero in their eyes

He sure don't let all his fame and fortune go to his head
When not at a rodeo, he hires out as a thousand a month cowhand instead

One day at that ranch, he tried to ride the old stud
He got thrown and he got stomped in the mud

Instead of bein bad hurt, or even dead as was everyones fear
He got up, wiped the mud off his face and revealed a grin from ear to ear

Now that ol' stud tried to put out his light
But inside that cowboy there's just too much fight

And you know, it's that fight that he has within
That after bein thrown, makes him git up and do it again

John A. Cook
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.

Ridin Fence

I've been working hard, was out all day
Had to fix fence so home's where them cows would stay

Them ornery cows were always testing the fence, they just wouldn't let it be
When we lit out this mornin', I knew we had our work cut out for us, that dun and me

I was in some rough country, but it was purty scenery all about
But that wasn't on my mind, I had to fix fence so the cows couldn't git out

Them cows have always thought the grass was greener on the other side
But there's no way I can let them roam, even with my brand on their hide

All I have with me is my horse, a lunch and a small roll of wire
Oh I guess that ain't all, you cain't forget them ol' rusty fencing pliers

That fence was really old, it needed replaced pretty bad
Whenever I'd splice the wires, they would break, made me kinda mad

We traveled far that day, me and that dun
Found nearly a million breaks through which them cows would run

I fixed fence and pushed back a few cows that had gone astray
But I didn't git them all, so I knew I'd have to be back the next day

I worked until I couldn't see
Then we headed back, that dun and me

That dun had carried me long and far today
So when we got back, I forked him a little extra hay

After the horse was taken care of, I went to bed, 'cause you see
I was tired, for we'd worked hard today, that dun and me

John A. Cook
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without the author's written permission.


About John A. "Ringo" Cook:

I grew up on a little ranch in north central Wyoming, north of Worland . . .  I love horses and cows . . . just ranching in general.  Working as a ranch hand doesn't put too much money in your pocket, but that doesn't matter to me, I do it because I love it. . . . I am 19 years old, and have always loved the cowboy way of life.



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