Cowboy Poetry and Music and More at the BAR-D Ranch

San Antonio, Texas
About Kenneth Bennight



Hot and Dry in Texas

When itís hot and dry in Texas, itís hot and dry for sure.
The cattle turn to skeletons; the dust is fine and pure.
The sun will bake your skin on through, yep, right on down to bone.
The roosters give up crowing, and the goats can hardly moan.

You see mirages dancing on the highway up ahead.
If you count on them for water, you are going to wind up dead.
The rivers stop their flowing, and the tanks get filled with dust,
And the hogsíll eat on prickly pear, just doing what they must.

The crops all shrivel in the fields, just turning brown and crisp.
If you get a cotton boll, itís nothing but a wisp.
The sorghum wonít keep mice alive, the corn is worthless, too.
Farming dry in Texas is a thing youíll come to rue.

The ranchers keep on struggling, praying to God for rain,
But the bankers look for payments, feeling their own pain.
There ainít two ways about it. When the weatherís hot and dry,
In the parched dust of Texas, things are going to die.

© 2011, Kenneth Bennight
This poem may not be reprinted or reposted without permission.

Kenneth comments, "I wrote the poem during the summer of 2011. The drought was particularly intense. The river that bounds my land dried up, and my pasture looked like it was in West Texas even though it's within 60 miles of the coast."




   About Kenneth Bennight
provided 2013

I live in San Antonio, Texas, and have some rural land between San Antonio and Houston.




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