Twas meant to tell of great cowboy heroes,
But we cowgirls have had more than enough –
Old lonely rangers and Rogers named Roy
Are as attractive as tobacco snuff*…
Last time I checked, not a one of them blokes
Sported tight-fittin’ & patched-up blue jeans –
Bold embroidered shirts with bright fancy fringe,
Such costumes were meant for Hollywood scenes…
This cowgirl prefers her hero unknown,
Fresh from the fields, even bruises will do –
No legends to weigh his broad shoulders down,
Just promises made that we’ll make it through…
Beneath his hat’s shadow, ‘top high cheekbones,
Those warm whiskey-tinged eyes beckon me in –
Big calloused hands from hard work and ridin’,
Arms of a fighter and true gentleman…
He would get sweaty and no doubt he’d cuss,
He’d smell six-ways-to-Sunday at day’s end –
But my home and my rock, he’d always be,
My cowboy hero, my lover, and friend!
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