Rodeo Ready by Norman Tween

Rodeo Ready

Rodeo Ready

Here is a song about Rodeo Ready
he could ride a horse real steady
and he sang his songs all night long
to his lovely darlin’ Betty
That’s Betty Ready

She said,
You can ride and twirl a rope
and sing like a chickadee
why don’t you sing on the radio
and not just sing for me.

So that’s when Rodeo Ready
when down to the radio

He said,
I’m Rodeo Ready
and I’ve got a song or two
I always sing these songs for Betty
but now I’ll sing them all for you.

So he sang his songs and they looked on
and then they had this to say,
We like your songs and the way you play
and thanks for coming by today,
but
You’re not radio ready,
no siree
You’re not radio ready.
Leave your card in the hall with Eddie,
Mr Rodeo Ready.

So Rodeo Ready went home to Betty
he said,
I sang my songs in the bar so strong
but Them old dudes said I sounded wrong.
They said you’re not Radio Ready
and to leave my card with Eddie
Cause I’m not Radio Ready.

So who is this Radio Ready said Betty
I swear he don’t mean nothin’ to me
And if he’s so good”
on the radio already he’d be.”

So now ya’ll know Rodeo Ready
never got on the radio
and he went back to
singing his songs alone to Betty
Well one day he became a dadd-ee-o
Folks showed up when the child was born,
and asked them, “What’s the baby’s name?

Well Betty looked at Rodeo

Rodeo looked at Betty

“We’ll call him Radio Ready
He’ll be Radio Ready.

And on the way home
Betty she moaned
“Did you leave your card with Eddie?”

Lyrics by David Michael Jackson and Norman Tween
Melody by Norman Tween
Guitar by Andy Derryberry

Photo Clipped from Why the Cowboy Sings


From

Copyright 2014 All Rights Reserved

Posts by Summer Breeze

Edy Lou Benjamin

Edy Lou Benjamin

Summer Breeze (Edy Lou Benjamin) of Silver City, New Mexico founded our sister site, Motherbird.com and has been our friend and comrade since 1998. We lost her this year. She also published many poems at Artvilla over the years.
We will miss you, Summer.

Here are the posts Summer published at Artvilla since 2005. Not all of the dates are accurate.

[pt_view id=”5814f4696a”]

THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE Poem by Summer Breeze

The Seed of the Burning Tree

The Seed of the Burning Tree

THE SEED OF THE BURNING TREE

i stand knee deep in burning coals
waist high in bombs bursting light
eyes filled with poisonous gas
ears to the crackling wind

i kneel deep in daisy filled garden
soft breeze caressing my face
tear drops coursing the river
bird song in my ear

i lie on the ground hugging
holding least i fall further
than i can remember being
down in the deep deep well

i turn to face my Maker
i cry, “o Maker face me!”
give me just one reason,
or take this cup.”

the crackling wind is silent
the air is sweet & pure
i see a tree in the garden
it burns but does not die

“My child, & you are my child
My love, and you are my love
You are the seed of the burning
Tree, and you and I are one.”

Originally published at Artvilla.com on Feb 1, 2005 @ 17:02

In the Shallows Poem by Summer Breeze

Summer solace painting

Summer solace painting

In the shallows
by Summer Breeze

In the shallows of our past
remembered shadows
heart broken clean
of entanglements and fairy tales
Camelot was not
akin to our dreams of real
still
in our frenzied recreation
needed now it is a good time
to rampart the battlements
of fear and greed
the poet dreams
dips a pen in the deep well
informs the other
“You are loved”

First Published at Artvilla.com on Nov 30, 2004 @ 15:05 CST

Life Was Easier Then

It was so much easier
when we just had Elvis
and Walter Cronkite
we knew who could sing
and we got the news right

Yes life was better back then
we had a dining room and a den
and we didn’t have a garage full of stuff
and we threw our trash off a bluff

and our sink holes were full of cars
and it never made the news
and we didn’t give a damn about Mars
and fancy shoes

And Aunt Marie fixed
potatoes and pinto beans
and there were these new things called
blue jeans

Oh all the fields are big now and the farmers are gone

Oh what price we paid for our fancy homes

and they took our trash with a big giant hand
when the suburbs swallowed the sons of the land

 

 

Jackson