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Copyrighted by Lance A. Johnson
Ol’ Jake and I went ridin’ once, a long, long time ago;
In truth, I reckon, it’s a fact, we never quit, you know?
We set our sights on mountains and rode up the Rio Grand,
I’ll tell you shore and certain, Jake was quite a hand.
We liked to ride the ridges, where we could see for miles;
We were a lot alike, yet we had different styles.
He was a bit more daring, more on the wild side;
That’s the way it was the day he almost, nearly, died.
We was skirtin’ ‘round a cliff and ridin’ very close,
When, right up to the edge, Ol’ Jake, his horse, did nose.
Then he climbed up on his horse and grabbed the twig of a tree,
That he was askin’ for trouble, seemed plain e’nuf to me.
‘Course he’d done such things before, I’ll shore give him that,
But this time a little breeze stole, from him, his hat.
Up into the air it flew, then down past the horse’s eyes;
Suffice it to simply say, The steed was taken by surprise.
With a snort, the steed did shy, leavin’ Jake holdin’ the twig;
As his legs slipped, he commenced to dancin’ quite a jig.
I mean he was wanting something solid and lookin’ everywhere,
But all that he could find was a twig and empty air.
The branch bent over, like a pole when a fish does bite,
Then, suddenly, swished upwards, as Jake sailed out of sight.
Now, I heard some rocks cascading downward off the cliff
And I figured, by the time I rode around, Jake would be gettin’ stiff.
I mean I figured he done tumbled a thousand yards or more
And I figured he was done ridin’ with me for shore.
I mean I figured he was kilt and lyin’ in a crumpled heap,
All kinds of mental pictures, into my mind, did leap.
I saw eyeballs rollin’ downhill and brains strewn all the way,
‘Course, on second thought, perhaps ‘twas only hay.
Then, suddenly, I heard a moan and a, “Darn it all to heck,”
And I knew for certain, Ol’ Jake had survived his wreck.
So thinkin’ he might be trapped out upon a ledge,
I carefully crawled up and peered over the edge.
“Grab a rope,” he hollered, just as soon as he saw me,
From his precarious position on the limb of a small tree.
Even as I watched, one of its roots gave way,
So I commenced to movin’, like I was makin’ hay.
I grabbed that rope and hooked one end of it to my horse,
Then I tossed the end with the loop down to him of course.
Another root loudly cracked, as he stood to grab the rope,
Then wiggled his torso in like a bar of store bought soap.
Then, suddenly, the last root gave way beneath his weight
And the tree fell to the abyss, as, almost, was his fate.
I breathed a big sigh of relief and wiped the sweat off of my head;
If I’d not have acted so quickly, by now he would be dead.
I started to haul him up when he yelled, “You danged ol’ bat,
You’re goin’ the wrong way, I’ve still got to get my hat.”
Last Update: 11-29-06
Web Author: Linda L. Johnson
Copyright©2006 Linda L. Johnson