Cowboy’s Grace

Dear Lord,

         Yer lookin’ at a man who never learned to cook

                  unless you count pork & beans

         And a flowery grace like you’d read in a book

                  is really beyond my means

         But You can believe I’m a thankful man

                  though it might be undeserved

         And I’ll eat whatever comes out of the pan

                  no matter what’s bein’ served

         I don’t take it lightly if it’s real good

                  cause I’d eat it anyway

         See I know there’s people, in all likelihood

                  that might not eat today

         So count me in if yer needin’ grace

                  and bless those who provide it

         The farmers and ranchers, the bakers of bread

                  the loving hand that fried it

         But most of all, Lord, we give thanks to You

                  cause we who work on the land

         Know how much our harvest and bounty is due

                  to the gainful touch of Yer hand

         So bless this food and the life we embrace

                  and please forgive us our pride

         When others with tables a-plenty say grace

                  for what we’ve helped You provide.

Baxter Black is a cowboy poet, former large animal veterinarian and entertainer of the agricultural masses.  Learn more at www.baxterblack.com.