Nancy L. Wilson
Little Buckaroo - Poem by Nancy L. Wilson
My little buckaroo, trying to rope an' ride like big people do.
Small fingers turning ropes into knots,
throwin' at dogs and mom's flower pots.
Daddy's old number pinned to your chest you're sure you're the best.
Ridin' the fences and your daddy's knee
you'll be a champ by the time you turn three.
Boot clad feet, as dirty as your face,
running to investigate at a whirlwind pace.
unaware life's a mighty long race,
You're sure where you're goin',
that your horse is for ridin',
your rope is for throwin'.
You're sure a true buckaroo,
you'll have the world roped
by the time you are through.
Comments about Little Buckaroo by Nancy L. Wilson
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Nancy L. Wilson's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You