This poem is on behalf of cowboy poets everywhere

'cause we've had no better advocate for what we like to share.

 

I'm speaking of a special guy who almost every day

shares a lot of joy and laughter on his radio café.

 

We've sent him poems we've cooked up, and he never seems to care

whether they be sweet or sour...he will read them on the air.

 

And his "Café of the Airwaves" has sure served a lot of folks

with a menu full of Baxter Black and Gary Muledeer's jokes.

 

His kettle sings with western tunes from all our nation's best

and the "special-of-the-day" is when he has one for his guest.

 

He's cooked tales by an open fire with Jingle Bob and Slim,

with Andy, Ken and Rodney, D W and Jim.

 

He don't forget the special friends who served us in the past

like the poems of dear Rod Nichols, who left us way too fast.

 

But the café will be closing and the curtain will be drawn;

we'll no longer hear that golden voice when our radio comes on.

 

As I said, I'm not just speaking for myself, but all the rest,

We will miss you like the dickens, Jim, but with you all the best!