Welcome
to the
ZD Ranch

CATTLE DRIVE

Head em  up!!!
Move ‘em out!!
A cowboy can’t wait, 
To hear that shout.

Them steers in the trap,
They need to go home.
No more on the ZD 
Range will they roam.

They ate the lush grass
And gained lots of weight.
But now it’s time 
To walk out the gate.

Back to the F RANCH
There’s oat grazin’ for feed.
For alfalfa and cubes,
There’s simply no need.

Them steers are healthy.
They’ve had all their shots.
There’s short ones and tall ones,
And of course a few knots.

They’ll walk the four miles.
Just too many to haul.
And besides it’s fun,
Bein’ cowboys and all.

They wear the F brand
On their right side.
That a six in iron
Burned into their hyde.

It surely a brand
That ain’t gonna’ fade.
I just hope Kerry’s buyers
Don’t think it’s their grade.

Dec, 1998
©David J. Dill

Snuff Boxes

I took my Yearlings
To the feed lot today.
And I wrote a new poem,
Thanks to the boss, Robert J.

He liked my rhyme
"Bout a cowboys truck,
'Cause at workin' with cowboys,
He's had lots a luck.

He said "Cowboys ?..God loves them,
And I do too.
But their book keepin' and memos,
Need replaced,
Somethin' new".

They keep books an' memos on the bottom,
Of a box of snuff.
Readin' and understandin'
Sometimes gets tuff.

The real problem
He says it seems
Is the last time that snuff box
Comes out'a them jeans.

They toss it
without givin' a thought
To the sufferin'
All them lost memos have brought.

But the'll saddle their hoss
To go pick it up.
Out there in the feed lot
Amongst the mud and the muck.

If they'd just write all them figures
On the brim of their hat.
When they were needed
They'd know where there at.

'Cause a cowboy may loose notes on snuff boxes
And stuff like that.
But if he ain't lost his head
He ain't lost his hat.