Cowboy Hoe Down

On a Sunday in the evening The old barn becomes a hall Social place where every weekend The town folk go for a ball. The inside is decorated Lights are lit, the banners sway By the walls barrels and cartwheels Wooden stools and bales of hay. Everybody loves a shindig Where square dancing is the craze Violins, guitars and banjos Loud hillbilly music plays. There’s a guy who’s always present He’s the handsome Cowboy Kurt On his head a leather Stetson Dressed in jeans and chequered shirt. Carol comes in golden pigtails Gorgeous looking in flared skirt She stands out; her smile is charming She is hot and likes to flirt. Cowboy Kurt looks quite appealing He taps his feet to the beat As other couples are reeling Pretty Carol takes a seat. Kurt decides to mosey on up And lay his heart on the line See if Carol would share some grub Perhaps a swig of moonshine. Tiny Carol surprises Kurt Chugging down half a bottle She eyes him coyly, looking pert Then starts to jig full throttle. Stunned Kurt is reeling to and fro As wee Carol takes the lead Dance floor clears; they put on a show Kurt looks like a tumbleweed. Music wouldn’t stop fast enough For Kurt who couldn’t square dance Carol is made of tougher stuff And has high hopes for romance. Totally lit and loving it Carol trots to the outhouse But when she returns, Kurt has split “Where’s my man?” Carol does grouse In his truck Kurt has hit the trail Head still spinning from the dance Carol sits upon a hay bale Hoping he’ll return to prance After the hoe down was over Banjos and fiddles tucked away Cowboy Kurt was still a rover Out cold on the hay Carol lay. ------------------------------------------------------------ Written 6th October, 2014 A collaboration by Paul Callus and Carolyn Devonshire