My Aunt Brenda (Mom's sister) recently emailed to me a couple of poems that she wrote about her dad, my Grandpa John Bartram. I've already shared some of Grandpa John's rodeo adventures with you, but I think that this poem really adds some color to his cowboy exploits! Grandpa didn't have a middle name, but everyone called him John "Bull" Bartram, hence the title of Auntie Brenda's wonderful poem.
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| Grandpa John Bartram (far left) and his cowboy friends in Australia |
JOHN BULL
By Brenda Bartram Cairo
My Dad rode Broncs and Bulls
In the Rodeos years ago
He even went to Madison Square Garden
Where he put on quite a show
Our cowboys sailed for Down Under
To show those Aussie's up
My Dad regaled, in wonder
Sipping Four Roses from his cup
"Now those Aussies were plum crazy
Like the Broncs that they drove in"
With each sip his speech gets hazy
Then, he starts his tale again
Wild Bush horses the Aussies called them
Small and weedy were their lot
You could see by their decorum
Man or rope, had they seen not
So with sacks and ropes a flyin'
We tried to snub them down
You could see grown men a cryin
For, no chutes were to be foun'
George Marciel got tromped, I do not tattle
Ted Knight was staggerin 'round
Wild Aussies on their sissy English Saddle
Up and rode us to the ground
"But, then, came the real battle"
He says with an awful cuss
Those Aussies drank us under the table
Without so much as a wink or fuss
In earnest now, Dad's tears began to flow
To those sissy saddles, let us raise our glass
To those wiley little horses of long ago
They were way above our class
But most of all
To that wild and woolly wonder
Standing up there gruff and tall
To those Aussies from Down Under
They really stol' our show
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| The Bartram Family: Back: Jim, Brenda, Becky (Mom) Front: Clay, Grandma Donna, Grandpa John |
I love this post, Wendy.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonderful poem and photo!
ReplyDelete