by Rod Nichols
I’ve been to the finest and highest ranked schools
Studied the wisdom of wise men and fools,
I’ve read all the words of their minds and their deeds
The sum total thoughts of their phi-los-ophies,
But I’m here to tell you that after awhile
I’ve come to believe that they missed it by miles,
Why it don’t take Plato or Plutarch or Paine
To figure the matter in life’s little game,
Not that I’m braggin’ but then again, shoot
I can size a man up by the cut of his boots,
The style that he’s wearin’ and the wearin’ they show
Says a lot more about him than he’ll ever know,
He might be a talker or a tight-lipped old son
Claim honors or humble but when he’s all done,
I jest sort of eyeball his footwear you see
And what they are saying says volumes to me,
From the point of his toes to the shape of his heel
There’s a whole lot of things a glance will reveal,
For a cowboy is one way and a playboy another
And his boots make it clear if he’s one or the other,
Even the creases or smoothness or dust
Culls out the slicker from a man you can trust,
The care that’s been taken why even the hide
Can tell you the truth ’bout the hombre inside,
Some day in the future when I’ve got the time
I may write a book ’bout this theory of mine,
And who knows but one day in college you’ll see
A whole field of study called Boot-los-ophy.
Links
- There is plenty more of Rod Nichol’s poetry on his cowboy poetry page …and even a few more pieces at www.cowboypoetry.com, where Rod Nichols is a recipient of the prestigous “Lariat Laureate Award”.
© Rod Nichols, 2000. All poems are copyright the artist and should not be reproduced without permission.
