I started this poem one day when I was tired of doing science. Ever so often I would add another line or stanza till I finished it .
Stephen Robert Claire
Dirty, messed-up trouser pair;
His name was Stephen Robert Claire.
With dark brown, wavy hair,
He had an old chestnut mustang mare.
Stephen Robert Claire did ride
On the back, near mustang’s hide.
Stern-faced, English-capped, always tried,
And told the truth till the day he died.
He was the fastest rider nearby,
He rode in the lowlands and the high.
Stephen Robert Claire rode without a lie;
Well-dressed but never wore a tie.
Across the fields, he brought the cattle;
He never lost in the cow-horse battle:
Watch chain did jingle, and spurs did rattle.
This was Stephen Robert Claire in his Saddle.