First Rodeo Poem by Charles Hancock

She was 40 and attending her first rodeo
Maybe, just maybe, if the stars aligned
A rugged cowboy would become her beau
She was in the mood for a little grind

It was a hot August Saturday afternoon
The summer breeze offered little respite
Tonight is supposed to be a blue moon
She would welcome the cooler night

A hot dog with mustard and relish
Would have to hold her until she got home
As time passed, the weather got more hellish
The bottom of her cup was just beer foam

Then she saw him talking to a rodeo clown
He must have been around six foot two
She had to tell herself to calm down
Is he a local or just passing through

A Coca Cola Cowboy or the real deal
Steer wrestling or bull rider
The afternoon was starting to turn surreal
His plastic cup said Hard Dickens Cider

She walked up and asked if it is a potent potable
At first, he had a puzzled look was on his face
He smiled and said his beverage was notable
My name is Trevor, he said, but I go by Ace

Turns out he's a plumber by trade
And he always wanted the cowboy lifestyle
But that dream is just a charade
As the rodeo cowboy income wasn't worthwhile

Plans to go trail riding next Sunday afternoon
Were made during their chit chat
She gets to ride his mule, Harpoon
Which likes to take his time and all of that