If it involves a rope, a bull and someone giving the rope a pull?,
Maybe just a handle and a horse, a-bit on the wild side of course.,
It just might be a racing car and you not knowing how fast they are.,
What if it's a dirt bike, how fast does it go, will you jump on and try?

Now the rope's pulled and someones opened the chute gate,,
Did you say hey wait or were you ready to go meet your fate?,
Was the handle to tight, did the horse jump out with all his might,,
Or did you just lay back and rake him like the lawn Friday night?

Maybe they dropped the flag that just started the next drag,
And your throttle went to the floor, giving you the fastest score.,
What if the starting gate dropped and the wheelie you popped,,
Put you ahead of the pack, you're the fastest bike on the track.

And then you woke up, what a bubble you popped,,
You were the best at everything in this dream.,
So just roll up on your side and go back to sleep,
Who knows, maybe you'll still win everything?

Palmer's Poetry

If your socks don't match and most your pants need patched
And you don't go out in public with out some kind of hat.
If your truck pacts around your favorite hunt'n hound
And your rifle or shutgun's in the rack when you're in town.

If you can leave your truck unlocked with the guns in back
And no one thinks they'll take'em because the dog attacks.
You could even leave it running and be sure it'll be there,
Because you don't need a sign reading, dog bites "BEWARE".

If the knife your packing can split wood or you can stick it any where,
Maybe you should be wearing a sign saying, I see you over there.
To let the local thieves know it could be hazardous to steal from you,
Your guns might be out of reach, but the knife flies and the dog chews.

If people have seen you get rowdy or violent a time or two,
Chances are they walk way around or are as pleasant as can be to you.
What they fail to realize is, it could all just be a big show,
But at the risk of getting shot, cut or dog bit who really wants to know?

If any of the above sounds like something you could be?
The it's just quite possible, "YOU MIGHT BE KIN TO ME"!

Palmer's Poetry

Past the summer of 78, up high in the mountains, I was feel'n great.
Just me, my bow and a fresh set of buck tracks,
It was the first day of a brand new hunt'n season,
And I felt lucky, just to have made it back.

In my element amongst the great pines, hot trail'n what I hopped to find.
The print I saw on the ground, had a crisp edge of dirt still fall'n down.
He was so close, I could smell his fresh meat,
My mouth watered as I thought of the next deer I'd eat.

The tracks had lead me to a new grove of young pines.
That the forest service had planted in very straight lines.
Those 30 foot saplings were so close and just big enough,
That their limbs at the bottom, would reach out and touch.

So the thought of looking ahead to spot a big rack,
Was a task out of reach, so I just followed his tracks.
From opening to opening, I was right close behind him,
As I stepped through the next branches, my face lost it's grin.

For there on the ground was a pair of bear cubs,
Just where was their ma, would our elbows soon rub?
And instantly I wondered, just where should I go?
I needed to move, but which way? I don't know.

So I spun on my heels to start making tracks
And there the sow was wait'n to give me a big whack.
I knew what she wanted, so I ducked and stuck my bow up.
As I headed west, I thanked God for that stroke of luck.

My feet were spinning like fast turning wheels
But my nose and ears screamed, she's right on your heels.
Ducking and diving, moving real fast,
The next urge assured me that my breakfast just passed.

It slid down my leg and onto the grass, making a slick spot appear.
Turning the bend reach'n out for my shin, she slipped and fell right there.
Giving me enough time to spot a tree I could climb,
With a leap and two bounds I grabbed limbs.

12 feet off the ground I spun around and sat down,
Throwing a look back at that mother bear on the ground.
Her teeth were showing, it's no grin that much I know.
But she couldn't get to me, so she just turned to go.

As I sat on that limb watching the three of them,
Crest over the top of I know she's gone hill.
I was rudely reminded of what she had caused,
My nose caught a whiff of that terrible smell.

For my trip up that tree wasn't all that saved me,
It was also the movement I'd had.
That caused her to fall down as she came around,
Reaching for me just as she fell, halfway back up that hill.

That may well explain why some people claim,
THAT BEARS STINK!

It's the new beginning of our annual fire season.
We're getting ready too subdue fires, for what ever reason.
We'd rather they be acts of God or accidental, rather than acts of arson,
But once it's a flame, it dosen't care, it's intent is total destruction.

We've got hoses rolled and stacked, to despence ouickly once we're there.
Rams, hammers and axes too use, to force entry should the need appear.
Our first concern is to discover if there could be a life in need of saving.
Defeating the flames or preventing a death is every firemans first craving.

They've been seen throwing caution to the wind, placing themselves in danger.
Just to begin and complete the task of rescuing a completly unknown stranger.
It could be a child or a senior, maybe a smoke inhalation recipiant.
They've been seen exiting a flame engulfed building, caring a dog or cat.

They're a breed alone without question, a need for them ignites everywhere.
It's not for the pay or attention, I believe they're men that truly care.
They seem to hold life on a high pedestal and place their own second at times.
Puting one of today's modern heros in a firemans suit in my mind.

If you don't share my opinion, it's of absolutely no consequence to me,
I'd be willing to bet if you found yourself gasping for a little more air too breath.
That your mind would quickly change, if a fireman was the next face you seen.
In the face of death even a pesimest, sees things a little more clearly I believe.

So is he a hero or just a paid public servant? I guess too some it depends,
Upon rather the fire is at a distance, or if the flames are nipping at their tail end.
Everyone should stop and consider, could I need their help someday?
The answer could be yes, then he'd be your hero in spite of what they get paid!

TODAY'S FIREMEN

I don't recall him there much as I look back on my life.
My father always had to work and that took most of his time.
So while I was playing baseball or studying in school,
He was out there in the work-force, abiding by the golden rules..

My Father wasn't afraid of work , he always waded in.
He'd grab each task by the throat and shake until it suited him.
Then he'd move on to the next and do this time after time.
Six days a week when the sun rose until it set in the west again.

It was just a simple life, most people would proclaim.
There was nothing special about us, no fame in our family name.
But there was never any needed to point out the love we shared.
It's easy to see through the life he lead, my Father really cared.

Through grade school first then high school, he didn't have the time
To watch me as I grew up, he was busy working for each dime.
But he stuck to the task at hand as he worked to make enough.
To keep food on our table and over our heads he kept a roof.

So don't be quick to judge him, you can't begin to understand.
What kept us all together was his sweat and blistered hands.
Yes it's true he picked his work but not the hours that it took.
It's a simple fact in looking back, his life's a novel not a book.

So it dawned on me as I wrote these words I haven't got what it takes.
I can't build a shrine from a box of stone to show justice for his back aches.
I'll have to regroup and collect a few things, try and recall the past true.
With any luck and a ton of love I'll show him the praise that he is due.

It was just a simple life, most people would proclaim.
There’s nothing special about us, no fame in our family name.
But there was never any needed, to point out the love we shared.
It's easy to see through the life he's lead, my Father really cared.

I Love You Dad .

the one day a year that the calendar
Designates for us to honor the woman who is
Responsible for a lifetime of sacrifices and a never ending
Devotion towards family needs.

Mom is always the one who manages to quardinate
The impossible task or schedule into an acceptable situation.
She can juggle, sort, untangle and weave things
Back together to make them look as if though
They were planned that way.
The only one that's any wiser, or to suffer any lose
Is the one who worked so hard to make it nice
For the rest of us.

She's always there with a word of encouragement
Or to offer a helping hand, if there
Should ever come a time that you would ask.
There are even things unspoken and times that are unforseen
When Mother offers a kind and loving touch.
We may never understand her or why she cares so much,
But we're thankful that God made one for each of us.

The calendar offers a single day to recognize her every year,
But I suggest that not a day goes bye,
That you don't try to show her the love, honor and respect
She so richly deserves.
We Love You Mom! WE LOVE YOU MOM.

Palmer's Poetry

Mathew Hobbs was a Kansas sheriff in a town near Wichita,
He grew-up just after the James boys and Younger's,
But he walked the right-side of the law.

He must have packed a pistol and handled it quite fair,
For no outlaws dared to push him, he was a lawman you couldn't scare.
Ruling the town with a righteous hand, only fearing and worshiping God.
When you came into his town , it was yes Sir and excuse me Mam.

But as time moved on he headed west, leaving the badge behind.
California was his goal and raising a family was on his mind.
He turned to the land to provide their needs, as a farmer's right hand man.
Controlling water to raise the crops, then harvesting the farmers land.
Soon he was raising cattle feed, seeing that it was cut and bailed,
With a helper and a truck he picked those bails up, at this he never failed.

Every job he ever took, he handled with confidence and ease.
With a wife and six kids to provide for, keeping all of them well pleased.
They didn't have gold or much money, but their wealth was not impaired,
Their treasure was the love and caring that this family shared.
If they were out picking fruit, or washing worms from a river bank,
They were happy just being together and Mr. Hobbs gave God his thanks.
He was a man by any measure, never compromised by what he believed.
Passing down his Christian values to the children he conceived.

From a sheriff and caring dad, to a place in Heaven for eternity.
He lived his life according to the word of God,
Now he's up there waiting for his family.
So by following the Christian path that Jesus left for me,
When I'm done here on earth, I'll know my Grandpa eternally.

Hello cousin, when I have time, since I'm so busy.
I think I'll write a few lines on paper pages.
Just to let you know the latest news about a year or two ago.
We are all still as well as can be expected
For the shape that we're all in,
We ain't sick, we just don't feel good,
Except for those of us who are dead.
I hope this letter finds you just the same.

I suppose you'll want to hear about our move
From Pennsylvania to Caliwood Hollyfornia.
We never started moving until we left and
We never turned until we found a road that went straight there.
So it only took us from the time we left until we got here.
The trip was the best part of it all,
So if you ever come out this way, don't miss it.
They didn't expect to see us until we arrived and
Most of the people we we're aquainted with knew us,
The rest of them all looked just like strangers.

We're still at the same place we moved to last,
Which is closest to our nearest nieghbor acrossed the street.
Just over there on the farthest side.
Pa thinks we'll stay here until we go someplace or move again.
We're busy farming, we have three cows but might sell one of them,
Because we have a little trouble milking him.

Eggs bring a good price here, that's why they're so high.
I sure hope we get a lot of them,
We just bought 25 roosters and one old hen.
Some of the ground here's so poor, umbrellas can't be raised.
But with four post and metal siding we made a shady spot of tin.
Our corn crop looks good, should make 5 gallons per acre.
Some worms got in last years, had to fish'em out and drink it later.
Ma was taking the cows to water when one fell trough the bridge,
Needless to say she strained her utter.
Now twice a week she gets the hick-ups and churns her own butter.

The old dog died last week, Pa said he swallowed a tape measure
And cashed in when he came up a few inches short.
My Mother-inlaw is sick and near deaths door, I hope she pulls through it.
Sis fell off the porch, it bruised her somewhat and skinned her elsewhere.
Then she got the mumps and has had a swell time of it.
Her baby swallowed a role of camera film,
But I doubt if anything developes.
Everytime Pa gets sick, he starts feeling bad,
The Dr. gave him some medicine and said if he gets better it might help him
And that if he don't get any worse, he might just stay the same.

Ma has gastronites in her stomach, the Dr. says
She's drinking to many nehi pops and
They must have moved up on her.
Every time Grandpa gets a tooth-ache his feet start hurting
And the pain stays with him until it finally quits aching.
I would have sent you the money that I owe you,
But this letter was sealed before I thought about it.
I sent an overcoat, but had to cut off the buttons to lower the shipping cost.
You can sew them back on, they're in the front left pocket.

We're fresh out of jelly so I sent Pa into the city,
Where in no time at all he found plenty of traffic jams.
I put your address inside this envelope so it won't get smeared.
I must close now, but if you don't get this letter in time to read it?
Let me know and I'll mail it back to you again.
If you can't read my writing, just copy it and read your own.
It took nearly three days to write this, because I know you read so slow.
Love from someone you knew, but now you wouldn't!

It's morning and time for breakfast, your first meal everyday,
So roll on up into your spot and we'll start things right away.
The most important thing is to begin with a good nourishing fill,
Jump right in and treat yourself to two onces of hot oatmeal.

To reasure that you don't get choked, take 30 ounces of water.
Drink it down to clear your throat and to cool any chance of fire.
Then back away from the breakfast table, that's enough for awhile.
With your throat clear of hot oatmeal, it should be effortless to smile.

Then along about twelve it's time for lunch, a chance to really chow down.
Roll up to mixed nuts, prunes and a piece of fruit to wrap yourself around.
A jug of water will flush it all down, you wouldn't want to get a nut hung,
Just rare back and inhale deep, you're still hungry but the air fills your lungs.

At dinner time avoid pasta, starch and sweets, vegetables and meat are fine.
But not to much of each, you don't want to stretch your thinning waistline.
If you'll follow this plan to the letter, you're bound to loose a pound or two.
Even if you don't, you'll save money to buy whatever you want in good shoes.

This diet will quarantee that you'll loose weight or have the finest in foot wear.
Which ever it is, it'll be of some help when you no longer need the wheelchair.
As for me I've been eight years at it, I ain't lost much but I've gained plenty,
I've bought Italian sandals, French suede shoes and boots with my money.

Still setting right here in my power wheelchair.