By J. Carl Brooksby
Now featured on cowboypoetry.com.
Do ya remember jest how blue ya felt
The first time ya left yer mom,
An’ went away ta Boy Scout camp
A hundred miles from home?
Or went away ta college
Residin in a dorm,
An’ ya missed yer mom an’ daddy
An’ yer little sweetheart’s charm?
An’ ya felt so blue an’ lonesome
That ya cried yerself ta sleep.
Well, you don’t know what lonesome is
If you aint herded sheep.
Campin’ out all by yerself
No human bein’ in thirty miles
With a thousand onery woolies;
That sure don’t make ya smile.
Jest you, yer dog an’ them woolies
Out in the desert dry,
An ya think of yer friends a dancin’
Beneath the starlit sky.
An’ yer little gal’s a dancing close
Ta that dude from out a town,
An’ ya haven’t bathed fer nigh two weeks;
She wouldn’t want you around.
Ya see the tumble weeds roll by
A blowin’ in the dust;
You’d like a drink of water,
But yer canteen’s full o’ rust
Or ya hear the wild coyote cry
When yer tryin’ to go ta sleep.
No, you don’t know what lonesome is,
Cause you ain’t herded sheep.