There's
ol' Jim Gay,
A
horseback just sittin'.
He's
the buckaroo,
'Bout
whom this rhyme's written.
He's
a genius a horseback,
A
real athlete.
Never
seen him a standin'
On
his own two feet.
He's
always sittin'
Top
of hide muscle and bone.
If
he thought it a horse,
He'd
ride a cyclone.
He
can stop his horse,
And
make an eleven.
If
I could do that,
I'd
think it was heaven.
He
does roll backs, side passes,
Backups
and spins.
Just
to get them ol' bronks,
Back
in their pens.
He
picks up bronk riders,
Some
out of thin air,
And
sets them down
With
the greatest of care.
He
don't get gold belt buckles,
Or
his name on the truck.
He
just picks up cowboys,
Off
horses that buck.
Folks
don't know his name
Like
they do Donny and Neal.
But
if you talk to the cowboys
And
see how the feel.
They'll
tell you they like him,
They
think he's great.
Hell,
if you get a few of them drunk,
They'll
put his name on the front gate.
©David J. Dill Dec. 31, 1995
Jim
Gay autographed this poem for me and I
have
it hanging in my "cowboy room".
