Copyright 1995-2005 - Chuck Pritchard

POETS, BARDS & LIARS

Well it was the Cowboy Ball, the biggest grandest one they had.

Looked forward to by one and all, 'specially the young both lass and lad.

The band was hot tho the night was not, thru the snow the folks had drove.

And many spent the night around, that old pot bellied stove.

The hardwood floor was waxed and slick, to the benches 'long the wall.

And laughter filled the rafters, of that country dancin' hall.

There were punchers there and ladies fair, from every ranch aroun'.

They'd come to stomp and t' visit friends, some even came from town.

All the lads were in their wildest rags, and the ladies wore their best.

The talk would be for days to come, how each and all were dressed.

The fiddles sang and the guitars rang, to the square dance callers cry.

Throughout it all at the Cowboy Ball, one young girl had my eye.

She was such a thing of beauty, possessed with style and grace.

As she whirled across the floor, a shining smile upon her face.

She laughed and clapped and gave a bow, at the end of every song.

When they would play all the old favorites, then she would sing along.

And it really wasn't hard to see, she was the Belle of this Cowboy Ball.

As she floated around with grace and ease, on the floor of that old hall.

With a smile wide as a river, she danced with every hand.

That had come from miles around, across that snowbound land.

When the Ball was finally over, and they called out the last dance.

I'd not had my turn with her, and feared I'd lost my chance.

When she floated then into my arms, eyes a shinin' like the mornin' dew.

And whispered then into my ear, "I'll dance this one with you."

She looked across her shoulder then, at those faces long and sad.

And said, "I'm sorry guys but I saved this one for Dad!"