Out Mending Fences by AI

Tory on the Range

Tory’s out building fences,

Bolstering his defenses,

By going to war.

Wild, the range is not safe.

Diverse evolution is rife,

Tame, loyal, native cattle roam,

Give no evil predators a home.

Have no beef with the rest,

Long as they buy my beef best.

Go after them legal or not,

Hired guns the best shot.

Annex any underused land,

Build my spread so grand,

Other cattle barons will envy,

What true grit will and can be.

Must exploit everything to advantage,

Leave the rest to their mismanage,

Pay them good wages to cringe,

If not, I’ll easily fly off the hinge.

View my empire with glory,

If challenged, will get gory. 

Hiigh in the saddle,

No need to prattle.

Now that I own the range.

Copyright 2025 © Ronald W. Hull

11/13/25

You can read and print this poem at my website here.