A poem by

Gordon Melton

There is an old fella out at Buck Creek

He's a little hard of hearing so be loud when you speak

He's lived many years and has seen many things

He's as good as an Angel but without the wings

Sit with him a while and many stories you will hear

Stories of the War, the Drought, & to him things that are dear

His body looks feeble and a little weak

But watch him work and you will think he is at his peak

He goes to the pasture and gives his cattle some feed

Then he gets on his tractor and plows and plants some seed

When he is done, he looks around with a smile

Then he thanks God for letting him be around a while

He walks in his home, which he was born in

With never a frown, but only a grin

I visit with him as often as I can

For he is a very interesting man

When I talk to him, knowledge is what I seek

Because that's one heck of a Fella out at Buck Creek