We was Mountain men - a poem
Sept 23, 2014 21:50:21 GMT -7
Post by Chuck Burrows on Sept 23, 2014 21:50:21 GMT -7
We was Mountainmen
by Ron LaClair..................
I remember when, we was Mountainmen
seems like it weren't long ago
We was bullhide tough an we played real rough
there wern't a man that we couldn't throw
When we put sights on a deer our eyes was clear
an that critter was soon on a pole
We Mountainmen...who'd a thought back then
that we would ever grow old
We shoot smoothbores now, can't see rear sights
but the front blade is still fairly clear
We load them smoothies with a big round ball
an still manage to kill us some deer
We still rendezvous an we still count coup
but it ain't like it use ta be
Our joints is worn an it's hard ta run
when ya got a titanium knee
Then there's them pipes, ya just never know
if they're in the shape they should be
So the Doc he says, "Son I think it's time
ya had a colonoscopy"
Can't sleep no more on the cold hard ground
since we got that new plastic hip
use ta drink a whole jug round the fire at night
now it's just a few little sips
The day will come...not far down the road
when they'll wanna put us in a home
They'll say we're too old ta be out in the cold
to old ta hunt on our own
When they come ta take me to that old folks home
on some cold dark rainy night
They'll sure be surprised when this ole coon says,
"BOYS, THAT'LL BE AFTER THE FIGHT!"....WAGH!
But if THEY win an I'm put in
To that fearsome, lonely place
To swaller pills cause I got the chills
'Mongst wrinkles on my face,
Then remember me, Y'all that's still free,
And hold to the mountain creed,
To never rest, but fight yer best,
Till the ol' coon is finely freed!
I've known Ron for some years now and he is a heck of a nice guy and a real character. At age 78, albeit a bit rusty and crusty, he is still going strong and has been there and done that for many, many years in ways, such as canoeing in period gear one of the Great Lakes ala the voyageurs, that many of us could only hope for. A student of famed archer Howard Hill he is also a master archer and maker of Shrew Bows. This poem was also recently published in Muzzleloader magazine.
by Ron LaClair..................
I remember when, we was Mountainmen
seems like it weren't long ago
We was bullhide tough an we played real rough
there wern't a man that we couldn't throw
When we put sights on a deer our eyes was clear
an that critter was soon on a pole
We Mountainmen...who'd a thought back then
that we would ever grow old
We shoot smoothbores now, can't see rear sights
but the front blade is still fairly clear
We load them smoothies with a big round ball
an still manage to kill us some deer
We still rendezvous an we still count coup
but it ain't like it use ta be
Our joints is worn an it's hard ta run
when ya got a titanium knee
Then there's them pipes, ya just never know
if they're in the shape they should be
So the Doc he says, "Son I think it's time
ya had a colonoscopy"
Can't sleep no more on the cold hard ground
since we got that new plastic hip
use ta drink a whole jug round the fire at night
now it's just a few little sips
The day will come...not far down the road
when they'll wanna put us in a home
They'll say we're too old ta be out in the cold
to old ta hunt on our own
When they come ta take me to that old folks home
on some cold dark rainy night
They'll sure be surprised when this ole coon says,
"BOYS, THAT'LL BE AFTER THE FIGHT!"....WAGH!
But if THEY win an I'm put in
To that fearsome, lonely place
To swaller pills cause I got the chills
'Mongst wrinkles on my face,
Then remember me, Y'all that's still free,
And hold to the mountain creed,
To never rest, but fight yer best,
Till the ol' coon is finely freed!
I've known Ron for some years now and he is a heck of a nice guy and a real character. At age 78, albeit a bit rusty and crusty, he is still going strong and has been there and done that for many, many years in ways, such as canoeing in period gear one of the Great Lakes ala the voyageurs, that many of us could only hope for. A student of famed archer Howard Hill he is also a master archer and maker of Shrew Bows. This poem was also recently published in Muzzleloader magazine.
