Old Softy

[couchgrouch]

Old SoftyMe and old man Johnson, walked that woodland roadmoon over the pinetops, yellow as a post-it notehe'd caught some big-mouth bass, but though we'd stayed latethe only thing I reeled in, would be next week's baitwe turned at the fir tree, and were followed down the trailby a skinny hound dog, waggin' his dusty tailwell, I wasn't gonna feed him, the sorry fish I'd caughtbut Johnson tossed a fat boy, and I shook my head and thought"you old softy...you're too sentimentalsometimes you gotta be hardnot kind and gentlebut your back is bent and your will has weakenedI guess life has got you beatenI'll bet you welcome ev'ry straywhen the fields get frostybut forget those pups, you oughtta toughen upyou old softy"well, a wrangler on my horse ranch, dropped a Winston in some haythough he got our Mustangs out, I lost my barn that dayMr. Johnson helped rebuild it, he showed up first at dawnthen moonlight on his hammer, said no one worked as longas that old softy...no man's hands were rougherno breaks as the day wore onhe just got tougherswimming for years in time's endless riverhad dyed his hair a regal silverI tasted corn liquorin his thermos of coffee he outworked us young pups, we hadda toughen uplike that old softywell, a moon loses its gold, as it rises in the skyand man can't take his riches, with him on highso old man Johnson, was happy with his shackhe'd sit and toss that hound, hambones and dinner scrapsthen one November evening, he fell asleep aloneneighbors thought they heard, that hound wail n moanthat Sunday mornin', we had a fun'ral in the rainit hid my sad tears, cos that day I becamean old softy, feeling sentimentalfor a good Christian manwho was kind and gentleI know you're someplace grand and loftyand you're lookin' down, as I feed your faithful houndlike an old softylike an old softy(c)2005 Robert George