She was born a slave somewhere back east
she said it was Hickman County, Tennessee
Somehow she’d learned to read and write
though she’d spent her childhood in captivity

She traveled to Montana along with a pack of nuns
but quickly learned she was better meant for fight’n
Over six foot tall and more’n two hundred pounds
and a six shooter she could draw as fast as light’n

A ball of fire she was and stood out solid
against most other cowboys out here in the west
She had battering rams for hands and arms
Always a bottle of whisky in the pocket of her vest

She came to fame one day when a green cowpoke
said no black woman was gonna to be his better
She’d already fisted him down when he went for his gun
got a hole in his chest before it’d even cleared leather

In her left hand she could hold the reigns of six
of the orn’riest horses you’d ever knew
while holding a shotgun in the other she
would keep the stagecoach runnin’ smooth

But when it came time for helpin’ out the town
be hard findin’ a better person even in a dream
one who could shoot, fight and out drink most all
but give half her pay to sponsor the local baseball team

She could be mean at times and cantankerous
for sure and yes sir, she could even be a little scary
Specially if you was stupid enough to try to steal
from anything driven by ‘Stagecoach Mary’

~ What is Cowboy Poetry ~
A friend and I had a rousing argument
around the supper table the other day
He said when them old fashioned poet would write
twas hard to understand what they had to say

I told him it wasn’t about what they said
but how their words danced with meter and rhyme
The art of words is like painting a picture
stead of a museum it hangs in your mind

I’ll tell y’all that my friend is a true cowboy
he prefers actions instead of using words
thinks people should tell the true worth of a man
from just watching the way he handles his herd

Says he’s pretty sure that any ole nimrod
can scratch pretty words on some paper with ink
If you’re trying to tell a cowboy something
just get on down to the meat of what you think

Stop prancin’ and dancin’ all your words around
Just come right on out and tell me what you mean
don’t dress it up like it’s going two steppin’
it don’t need to be all gussied up and preened

That was the day I truly understood
how poetry was really meant to be
Words written down simple and straight to the point
is the way to write good Cowboy Poetry