I’m shoppin’ for a cowboy and I gave it lots of thought—
I’m tryin’ hard to figure out where cowboys can be bought.
To organize a shoppin’ list my “druthers” I have wrote,
And I’m about to share with you the contents of that note:
I’m lookin’ for a cowboy that is handsome, tall, and lean,
All decked out in a Western shirt atop nice-fittin’ jeans.
Now don’t forget the boots, the belt, the buckle, and the chaps;
He’ll wear a showy wide-brimmed Stetson (not those baseball caps).
His spurs will jingle like Roy Rogers’ and you’re sure to see
A scarf of silk tied ‘round his neck as stylish as can be!
A moustache long and waxed up, too, will grace his handsome face;
His hair will be of jet black curls combed properly in place.
He’ll pick a tune on his guitar and prob’ly sing along;
He might just play harmonica and write a cowboy song.
To fit my specs he’ll be polite, “Yes Ma’am”, and, “If you please”,
Why, he’ll be so appealin’ he’ll charm honey from the bees!
He’ll scrape his boots then after that he’ll gather up his socks,
And he’ll like country cookin’, too, like beans, corn bread, ham hocks.
He must be honest, and obligin’, and both fair and true—
For fun he’ll whittle, and while carvin’ tell a joke or two.
And mannerly? Just like a gent he’ll always hold the door,
And never mind what else he does he won’t spit on my floor!
He needs to be from sturdy stock, that’s what I’d like to try—
Both durable and trouble-free; a simple sorta guy.
I want him smart as he can be; he’ll need a real good brain,
And common sense so he will know to come in from the rain.
The whole durn town will know his name; they’ll seek him out for sure,
‘Cause underneath his leather vest a heart beats kind and pure.
Some other gals have said it’s hard to find a real good man,
So I’ll take heed and shop around, and do the best I can.
I’m lookin’ for a cowboy that will stick around awhile,
So I’ll be shoppin’ somewheres nice; I’ll go down ever’ aisle.
I think I’ll scope out Les Schwab Tire ‘cause I don’t want no duds.
And there (accordin’ to their ad), they’ll make a deal….on studs!
Bobbie Hunter ©2010
BOBBIE HUNTER SAYS:
Born in a rural community in Northern California, my early years consisted of home in a narrow canyon with scarcely enough neighbors to know other people also lived in the world. The family’s total livestock count at that time consisted of one horse which, due to a riding accident leading to a permanent hoof print on my father’s chest, was sold before more damage could be done. Too late—the “cowboy way” was already in my blood.
A fan of country life in general and cowboys in particular, my horizons widened immeasurably upon marrying into a true ranching family. My cowboy husband introduced me to the beauties of Idaho, and it was there we bought a cattle ranch near the Oregon border where we began the adventure of “living.”
While raising a family of two sons and one daughter, the years gently passed until now the grandchild count is at an even dozen…nine little cowgirls and three little cowboys.
I stumbled across cowboy poetry in 2003; it immediately captured my heart and became a passion. The dam that for years had held back unwritten thoughts suddenly burst, and cowboy poetry spewed forth! True-to-life experiences are often the inspiration for my work; a fanciful imagination accounts for the rest!
Credit goes to Cowboy Poets of Idaho (CPI), the vehicle which first provided an outlet for my new-found hobby. Participating in various gatherings throughout the state only fed the impulse to write and to perform. Eventually poems popped up here and there in various publications and on the internet.
Cowboy poetry touches my heart; in turn, I hope to touch the hearts of others. The perceptive reader will discover my poems are nothing more than stories in which some of the words happen to rhyme. If my work captures the imagination of the reader to the extent of bringing a smile, inspiring thought, or tugging at the heartstrings, I shall be pleased, indeed.
Contact: Bobbie Hunter (email@example.com)