My mama was a cowboy
she rode the range of old
She loved the horses fresh
and didn't mind the cold.
She made a blanket roll for sleep
She tied it on that horse
She knew the mountain cold could cut
Through dusters with such force.
Sometimes the winter weather
Made meeker folks stay home--
But Mama mounted 'Yaywah'
And rode to Mt. Peal's dome.
The critters' hides were frosty
Steam blew from their noses--
If horse, or cow, or cowboy,
Life was no bed of roses.
Mama braved that awful cold
And chores she never shirked.
She kept up with the boys
and done her share of work.
The gray dust of the desert
Rose with the heat of day
Mom kept her cinch all tightened up
But then she'd always pray.
Utah's heat is legend
It's known across the west.
It didn't faze her strength or faith
She passed each and every test.
She could ride astride a team
One foot on each beast's back--
with lead-reins twelve foot long
She'd never lose the track.
That was just for fancy-show
the day work had been done.
Mama showed plain a lady
could work til setting sun.
But then my Daddy came
And took her heart away.
No more to be a cowboy--
she mourned to her dying day.
Well Mama now is riding
Somewhere beyond the sky
With the Master for a Big Boss
She'll not have time to cry.
(I'll miss her til I get there, and when I do, I'm gonna hug her til she squeaks.)
Copyright: JL Bailey,
21 Feb 2004
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