By Donna Penley
He was just a dirt poor ranch hand,
Never had much to call his own
Left his folks when he was sixteen
His cow-punchin’ skills to hone.
He bounced around from spread t’ spread
Worked for pay most wouldn’t take
Used his saddle for a pillow
Till Cookie’s bell brought him awake.
So, he learned cowboy in’ the hard way --
Heat, rain -- all kinds o’ weather
An’ he never earned much money,
No coins to rub together.
But the pards he met and kept as friends
Made up for lack of material things
Sidekicks who‘d back ya , no matter what
And their kinship held no strings.
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Donna Penley is a Cowgirl Poet with deep Kansas roots who has been writing cowboy poetry for over twenty five years. She is a real Cowgirl and an ex-barrel racer.
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