Larry Clements Luton

Cowboy to the Core

He came from where the red dust flies,

Oklahoma-born, beneath wide skies.

A mind that mined the earth so deep,

With secrets only stone could keep.

A geophysicist with pride,

He saw what ran beneath, inside.

While others guessed, he truly knew

What shaped the world – and shaped him too.

But more than charts or fault lines traced,

He moved through life with grit and grace.

An OSU man through and through,

He bled that bright and fearless hue.

He wore the orange, not just to show-

It lived inside, it made him go.

A Cowboy’s soul in every stride,

A “poke” in heart, in voice, in ride.

Through every fight, he stood up tall,

Even when sickness tried to call.

He didn’t flinch, he didn’t fold-

He met each day with quiet bold.

He mapped the deep with calm and skill,

Now rests where time itself is still.

And though we miss his steady way,

His spirit walks with us each day.

So raise your pistols, tip your hat,

He’s not gone far- remember that.

He’s in the soil, the wind, the flame-

And every time you cheer his name.

Go Pokes- we whisper, not with tears,

But with the pride he wore for years.

His spirit goes on, not lost, not done-

A Cowboy rides with every sun.

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