Little Willie Stokes was a buckin’ horse boy
’Had a grip that could crush pure granite
An’ when hangin’ on tight is the thing t’do
A good grip can’t hurt now, can it
It stood ‘im in good with Calamity Jane
A Ray Hix mare he once rode
He stayed on that horse fer a day-and-a-half
An’ the kid never did git throwed
That horse, she tried ever trick in the book
But Willie, he knowed what t’do
When Calamity slept, an’ kept on jumpin’
Little Willie, he dozed some, too
When he woke up, he said, How ‘bout a cup
A cold milk, if nobody’d mind it
You’d think at a rodeo it weren’t no stretch
But it took ‘em a while t’find it
Smitty volunteered an’ got it there all right
Regardless a’ alla the clutter
He didn’t spill a drop, but with alla the fuss
Willie’s cold cup a milk turned t’butter
Willie asked fer a samwitch, an’ Smitty sez, Sure
Jist as soon as I git remounted
While he took it out, the judges conferred
Then looked at their watches an’ counted
The head judge sez, It’s thirty-six hours
An’ this party here still ain’t done
So, let’s say it’s over, an’ jist tell the world
That the rider an’ the horse both won
Well, Willie was famous from that time on
An’ wherever he went they all knowed
That he’d rode a bronco a day-and-a-half
An’ the kid never did git throwed
Poet Nevada Swift is a member of the Academy of
Western Artists. His book, Cowboy Poems and
Outright Lies, is available through Silver Creek Music
and Books of Ft. Worth, Texas.
High Country Communications