Written by: JW Fellers

Her spurs are smaller, An' so are her jeans. Her attitudes are taller, These Cowpoke Queens. In a Cowboy's world, She has learned to cope. Whether gowned an' pearled, Or a lip full of cope. She will administer a shot, Re-bed a stall. For respect she has fought, To doubt her takes gall. She will pull a calf, Braid pretty a tail. You dare not to laugh, When you out throw a bale. She will load her truck, Bags each a hundred pound. She don't live on luck, Skill's where she's ground. She will rasp an' shod, An' curry a pony. She ain't no fraud, She ain't no phony. She will rope a steer, On a bull, find a seat. She knows nothin' of fear, Crow she won't eat. Letters she will end, With X's followed by O's. Fences she will mend, With hair in ribbons an' bows. Rather her horse to kiss, Than some, spiffy Beau. Nothin' there to miss, She'll rightly tell ya so. This world without a cowgirl? I shant dare to dream. Mixed perfect how swirl, Chocolate in vanilla ice cream. By Jim "Ish" Fellers Copyright ©: February 26, 2004 ~ Thursday