Hoe-Down
The dancing pardners, dressed in dungarees,
With checkered shirts, and Stetsons, boots and spurs,
Are at a wedding. Joy the bride now asks
The band to play a tune that she prefers.
The fiddle music made ’em tap their toes,
But what she wants just brings the place to life:
The hoe down wedding is the place to be -
And Billy-Bob’s so glad that Joy’s his wife.
I shake my head and smile at what I see
And hear the whoops and cries, as couples leap;
The fiddlers play so fast I can’t resist
But soon become a laughing, sweating heap.
I step upon my pardner's boot clad toes,
And pull her down when I fall to the floor.
I laugh so hard I cannot get my breath,
But she is angry, branding me a bore.
Some stop their dancing just to help me up
And wait there as I stumble to a chair.
The newlyweds wrapped in each other's arms
Dance on as though the rest of us aren't there.
This is their day, hope I haven't spoiled it
Even a little bit, that would be sad.
Most of the guests are crowding to dance floor,
But as for me, I'll rest here for a tad.
Before too long, I have to shout, “Yee-haa!”
I clap my hands and then I stamp my feet.
The youngsters feign fatigue and clear the floor
And, giggling, watch me leap up from my seat...
Written by Jack Horne and Joyce Johnson for Shadow's contest
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