Bull Rider

Under His Roof

I ain't no pure nor saintly person,
Ain't been to church, can't remember the day,
Do things different than most, I guess,
Talk to the Lord in my own way.

We visit out ridin' fences,
Baskin' under bright blue sky,
Or while watchin' a mighty thunderstorm,
Waitin' for the trail to dry.

There's lots of fancy churches,
Windows stained and painted white,
But talkin' under His own roof
Just seems to fit me right.

There's lots of time for conversin',
On a long and lonesome ride,
Sometimes feels like he's saddled up,
Ridin' by my side.

I'm just a workin' cowboy,
Known as friend by nary a few,
I'm bettin' that was the plan for me,
Since this ol' world was new.

I hear tell the Good Book says,
"Blessed are the meek"
Suits me fine, 'cause peace inside
Is all this cowboy seeks.

About the author...... Nick Kissnersays...

My wife Char and I, farm and ranch in southwestern Minnesota. We run a cow-calf operation, raising mostly commercial Angus cattle. We use horses to work our cattle and also enjoy ranch rodeo competition.

Char is also employed as an R.N. but loves to be horseback whenever possible. We have four daughters, three of whom are through college and out on their own. Our youngest is in high school and still joins in on the fun of trail rides out west.

I got interested in writing about four years ago when a fellow rancher and friend read me some of his work. I have since written several short stories and am working on putting a collection of my poems and short stories together in book form.

nikiss6@starpoint.net