BANTAM MAN

Bantam Man

He was a strutting bantam man,
with the spirit of a fighting man,
Dared all to try to bring him down,
He carried a bat instead of a stick,
He fought dirty, knew all the tricks.

He was an ornery bantam man,
with a cocky, crooked sinful grin,
He'd flirt with all the women,
even yours, beneath your nose,
as every one who knew him knows.

He was a crusty bantam man
with his cowboy hats and leather boots,
hair as red as Old Willy's braid,
hanging past his collar, unrestrained,
swinging fringe on his cowhide coats.

He was a proud bantam man,
fought for his country in Vietnam,
traveled flea markets in a beat up van,
attended pow-wows as his heritage,
Cherokee blood flowing through his veins.

He was a feisty bantam man,
intoxication was his down fall,
He swaggered up to any bar,
twirled the girls around the floor
if he'd only heeded the barkeeps last call.

Now he's gone our bantam man,
years of hard living brought him low,
He's fought his final battle to survive,
He danced his last dance across the floor.
He gave life his all, he took his last chance.

Written by Kelle T.
May 29, 2008
A tribute to my late Uncle Robert Taylor
Passed this day.I'll Miss you Uncle Bobby.