He’s tender and caring in his own way,

From moving cattle to bucking hay;

He’s stubborn but gentle and hard as nails,

As he deals with all that his job entails;

He may seem distant but he’s filled with pride;

From the cattle he tends to the horse that he rides;

He’s defender of the small and weak,

And protector of the sick and meek;

He keeps the code of the cowboy way,

Standing steadfast from day to day;

Watching over and protecting from harm,

All of the beings that reside on his farm;

He’s sometimes reserved and far-away,

And he never really has too much to say;

Laugh lines cover his weathered face,

Something even time can’t erase;

He is a cowboy, born and bred,

From the boots on his feet to the hat on his head.