The Putterer

While other men are rushin’ round,

     Excited as kin be,

A-chasin’ after wealth an’ fame,

     Or fashion’s fillergree,

I jest walk out around the farm

     With slow an’ stiddy stroke;

I don’t let nothin’ worry me,

     But putter round an’ smoke.

While others chase fur frozen poles

     Ten thousand miles away,

In risky ships or big balloons

     Thet sail away to stay,

I shamble off an’ hunt fur cows,

     Or mend a fence that’s broke;

I think I hev a better time

     To putter round an’ smoke.

While other folks are ridin’ through

     The country roads like mad

In autymobiles knockin’ out

     What little sense they had,

I poke along with “Jerry” ‘n’ “Jim”,

     Who look well in the yoke;

I’m safe an’ sound, an’ healthier

     To putter round an’ smoke.

June 9, ‘09