When progress finally has its way in the ranching business and the last "trotty" cowbrute is finally penned, it won't be done by some management expert or range analyst. It will be done by a cowboy like Sunny Hancock or Jesse Smith.

Sunny and Jesse are products of the old school who have been more miles on horseback before sunup or after sundown than most people have in board daylight. They understand the accept the circumstantial love/hate relationship which is always present in the cowboy life and are able to express it where the love wins out in the end. How boredom can result in a melancholy thought or a comedy of errors, how fear can motivate you to do your best or pride can place you at your worst.

Sunny and Jesse are at the core of the inner circle of the cowboy poetry crew because they've earned it. When future generations seek to learn about the true cowboy life through the printed word, the poems of SunnyHancock and Jesse Smith will be hard to ignore.

— Larry McWhorter, Cowboy Poet Weatherford, Texas

2003

2002

2003

2003

Sunny Hancock Sunny was introduced to poetry in grade school when he got hold of a Robert Service book. Later on, around the wagon or bunkhouse he says, there wasn't much for entertainment and most every old cowboy knew a little poetry. Contrary to what people think there were very few singing cowboys. If a wagon crew had raised their voices in song Sunny says it would have sounded like a bunch of sick bullfrogs. Sunny went to the first Cowboy Poetry Gathering in Elko Nevada in 1985 and has been going back ever since. He recites other peoples poetry and writes some of his own as well. He performs in many poetry gatherings and shows.

Sunny was raised on a little greasy-sack outfit near Williams, Arizona. He left home when he was pretty young, because, as he says "I was just another mouth to feed". Sunny cowboyed on several outfits in several states and wound up in Oregon. There he married his wife Alice and they raised their two children. Sunny worked for various ranches there and wound up his cowboying career running the cows for the ZX outfit out of Paisley. When Sunny left the ZX he and his wife bought a little starve-out ranch near Lakeview and both went to work trying to make enough money to keep the old cows fed, and a little something on their table ,as well.

About 1990 they got out of the cow business. They currently live in a small house in Lakeview with a five acre pasture where they try to fatten enough steers in the summer to keep themselves in beef and sometimes pay taxes on the place. Sunny enjoys the weather whatever it may be like. He says, "this retirement is great. When the weather gets cold you just turn up the thermostat and you're back in business"

Jesse Smith Jesse can honestly say he's been a working cowboy all of his life. He grew up in a small ranching community of Glennville located in the Sierra Nevada Mountains in California. His great-grandparents were one of the first to homestead the area in the mid 1800s. His traditional cowboy education started at age sixteen when he went to work for the Tejon Ranch. His teachers were old-time cowboys well-versed in the learnin' of young ones in the ways a cowboy should go.

Jesse started writing poetry at a young age. He was invited to the first poetry gathering in Elko, Nevada. As a result, he became well known and is often featured in gatherings and shows across the United States. He believes in keeping the traditions of cowboy live alive, which shows in his poetry.

When not on the range, his home base is in Porterville, California where he, his wife and son operate a small ranch filled with a variety of animals including a goat herd. His wife, Sandy, is well known for the cosmetic products she produces from goats milk.

For Diana
By Sunny Hancock

I have a friend that requested at one time that when she died I would do a poem at her funeral. Some time ago she was admitted to the hospital and I guess for a while it was touch and go. After she got a little better and was out of danger, I penned this little ditty for her.

I got the word the other day
down at the shopping mall
Old Doc had drug you down there
for a minor overhaul.
I should send some flowers
and I figured that I might
And I s'pose I really would have
if I weren't so blasted tight.
But since I am,
I thought the only thing for me to do
Was to get up off my duff
and come down there and visit you.
I've spent some time in joints like that
and so, without a doubt,
There'd be an awful lot of things
for us to talk about

Like all the things that they'd clipped off,
and parts they'd added on;
And how we liked the things they'd brought,
and missed the stuff that's gone.
We'd talk about the pills we took.
Boy, ain't those things a fright?
How the icy bed pan grabbed us
in the middle of the night;
The thermometer's another thing
that puts you in a pout,
And your butt looks like a dart board
just before it wears plumb out.
And all the nurses coming by
will smile real big and say;
"You'll feel better on the morrow,
but you look like hell today."

And then before I got to come
and visit like I should
Some folks told me they'd seen you
and you didn't look too good.
Of course, they didn't act too worried,
just sad you was off your feed
And a little time, they figured,
was the only thing you'd need.
That started me to thinkin'
as I sat there in my shack
Of a conversation you and I had
quite a while back.
You said, "When this earthly race is over
and I take my final ride
Say a poem that will help me
get across the great divide."
Well, I took you at your word
and now I wanna tell you, Kitten,
You better perk up fast
I got the first three verses written!

The hard cover book, 224 pages sells for $24.95 ON SALE! $20.00
ISBN 1-931725-02-0