CATTLE DRIVE '09

Long time ago, before the west had begun
A wild frontier, cattle, Indians and guns
Roared to the south of the new Georgia line
Deep in the Florida grasslands, scrub and pine.

Seminoles hunted, 'gators, bear and doe
And the cattle left, by Spaniards long ago.
Lean, mean cattle, with horns as wide as branches
Gathered by white men, herded onto ranches.

"Beef on the hoof," became the cry of the land.
Cattle roamed up, and slapped with a brand.
A snake whip cracks, hooves churning sandy ground.
Herded all together, then driven off to town.

The morning is foggy, the herd barely seen
Cow hunters push cattle, and boy are they mean!
Wet saddles are creaking, clothing is damp.
Mosquitos and gnats swarm wherever they camp.

Then hot sun shines forth, to blister their hides.
A cowhand shoots at a snake as he rides.
One century is gone. This life passed away.
But cattle still range here on Florida today.