Saturday, September 25, 2004
Alma's poems about growing up in La Plata County
LAPLATA COUNTY SERIES is ten exciting novels published in five books. LaPlata County is in the southwest corner of Colorado. The author spent some of the best years of his life growing up on land between Hay Gulch and Alkali Canyon where the last six novels in this series take place.
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Alma's poems about growing up in La Plata County.
A BOY AND HIS DOG Alma L. Greer Mar. 24, 2005
He can hear their hoofs, smell the dust,Along the cow drive at the close of day.He can feel the dust in his throat,And hear the critters pushing along the way.
He can feel the tiredness in his bones,As the day winds down towards home place.He can see the poor dog, tongue hanging low,From wandering cows, giving them a chase.
Yet, the dog never, ever wanders from his job,He’d watch his master’s signals with care.Showing him if a cow had left the herd,Were they over here, or over there.
The boy can hear the cow mooing for her calf,That was tired and lagging behind. But the faithful dog never let it stray,He’d quickly drive it back, and make it mind.
Oh the memory of a boy and his dog,Is a thought to have and to hold. Though time and years have drifted by, Memories still linger, like they were gold.
Thoughts of Bob, told by sister Alma.
THE BEST OF FRIENDS Alma L. Greer Mar. 24, 2005
My brother Bob jostled my memory,Of our long ago yesteryear.Things I had never heard before,Yet, I can see them, oh, so clear.
He spoke of the Cross Over Road,Up near Pine River Dam, it seems.A time when I was so young,It all appears to be in my dreams.
Yet, the picture Bob gave me too see,Was only in his own memory.A story, our Daddy told him about,Now Bob is telling it to me.
It seems grass pasture was real good,So it seemed the best thing for us to do.When we moved our trailer house to Pine River,Daddy decided to take Bessie our horse too.
Now Bob stayed home and batched,After all, he was nearly grown.Why, he was all of fourteen years old,So for sure, he could live all alone.
I can just see that boy in my thoughts,At the beginning of each lonely day.Slop the pigs, feed and milk the cows,Water and feed the chickens, no time for play.
It looks so clear in my foggy mind,But wait one minute, I’m drifting off course,This story isn’t about brother Bob,But Blackie the dog, and Bessie the horse.
It seems like I recall what good friends,-Blackie and Bessie had grown to be.But, since I thought they were both perfect,For sure that’s the way, I would see.
Bob said our Daddy told him, Pasture was luscious and green of course.So he tethered Bessie in the finest grazing,Told Blackie to stay with the horse.
Since they were the best friends ever,It was no job for Bessie’s doggy friend.All day long he guarded his charge,Never, ever letting up on his end.
People drove by the two, and gazed,The tethered Bessie and the dog Blackie. And he stood a strong guard on his horse,So all passing by, could easily see.
Warning anyone, who would do more than look,He was his best friend’s protector and guide.No one had better try to steal his friend,Or, he’d take a hunk right out of their hide. Bob didn’t say how long this lasted,But he did say people would stop by and say.Better not try and bother that horse,Or get in that watch dog’s way.
Their friendship stayed steadfast and strong.All the years we had Blackie and
Bessie.For sure they were the best of friends,My, such a beautiful, fond memory
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Writing
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Alma's poems about growing up in La Plata County.
A BOY AND HIS DOG Alma L. Greer Mar. 24, 2005
He can hear their hoofs, smell the dust,Along the cow drive at the close of day.He can feel the dust in his throat,And hear the critters pushing along the way.
He can feel the tiredness in his bones,As the day winds down towards home place.He can see the poor dog, tongue hanging low,From wandering cows, giving them a chase.
Yet, the dog never, ever wanders from his job,He’d watch his master’s signals with care.Showing him if a cow had left the herd,Were they over here, or over there.
The boy can hear the cow mooing for her calf,That was tired and lagging behind. But the faithful dog never let it stray,He’d quickly drive it back, and make it mind.
Oh the memory of a boy and his dog,Is a thought to have and to hold. Though time and years have drifted by, Memories still linger, like they were gold.
Thoughts of Bob, told by sister Alma.
THE BEST OF FRIENDS Alma L. Greer Mar. 24, 2005
My brother Bob jostled my memory,Of our long ago yesteryear.Things I had never heard before,Yet, I can see them, oh, so clear.
He spoke of the Cross Over Road,Up near Pine River Dam, it seems.A time when I was so young,It all appears to be in my dreams.
Yet, the picture Bob gave me too see,Was only in his own memory.A story, our Daddy told him about,Now Bob is telling it to me.
It seems grass pasture was real good,So it seemed the best thing for us to do.When we moved our trailer house to Pine River,Daddy decided to take Bessie our horse too.
Now Bob stayed home and batched,After all, he was nearly grown.Why, he was all of fourteen years old,So for sure, he could live all alone.
I can just see that boy in my thoughts,At the beginning of each lonely day.Slop the pigs, feed and milk the cows,Water and feed the chickens, no time for play.
It looks so clear in my foggy mind,But wait one minute, I’m drifting off course,This story isn’t about brother Bob,But Blackie the dog, and Bessie the horse.
It seems like I recall what good friends,-Blackie and Bessie had grown to be.But, since I thought they were both perfect,For sure that’s the way, I would see.
Bob said our Daddy told him, Pasture was luscious and green of course.So he tethered Bessie in the finest grazing,Told Blackie to stay with the horse.
Since they were the best friends ever,It was no job for Bessie’s doggy friend.All day long he guarded his charge,Never, ever letting up on his end.
People drove by the two, and gazed,The tethered Bessie and the dog Blackie. And he stood a strong guard on his horse,So all passing by, could easily see.
Warning anyone, who would do more than look,He was his best friend’s protector and guide.No one had better try to steal his friend,Or, he’d take a hunk right out of their hide. Bob didn’t say how long this lasted,But he did say people would stop by and say.Better not try and bother that horse,Or get in that watch dog’s way.
Their friendship stayed steadfast and strong.All the years we had Blackie and
Bessie.For sure they were the best of friends,My, such a beautiful, fond memory
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