I'm proud of my calluses,
rope burns and cuts.
I'm proud of my scars
that scream their name from my skin.
I'm proud of my life.
Of my horses.
I'm proud of my loops thrown,
my wild dreams and wild stories
and all that enthralls this life I ride.
Sometimes it seems as though I'm comin loose
or blown a stirrup.
Others I feel like I'm fanning him as he jumps over the moon.
But I am never willing to be told who or what to be.
To be mishapen by the opinions of others
and told what profession they believe a girl should follow.
There is perfection in the me that I am
and I was given talents and abilities by the dear Lord.
I was set upon this earth to be what I am
and to grow like the promising colt run off the mountain this morning.
So as my beaten fingers grip the poly strand and horsehair
that is my livelihood,
I am proud of being a cowboygirl.
I am proud of the life I have rode.
And I just hope to be gazed up to by the little girls
whose hearts run on the backs of horses
much as mine did when I was short and hard-headed.
I just hope that I am the best example of a cowboygirl,
and that I carry the name
with the pride and grace that which it was delivered
by hand from the bronc stomptresses of the past.
Mommas, let your little girls grow up to be cowboygirls.
This is the result of a bad cough, a late night and colorful pens! Hope you enjoyed :)