Dressed To Dance Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Walking into the Wagon Yard wearing jeans, cowgirl boots and
a ten gallon hat, dressed to dance, looking to have a grand
time, being with friends and having fun throughout the evening.

Steady beats of musical rhythms taking their places in minds
and intellects of every person here, delectable moods of en-
joyment filling faces with smiles galore.

Dancing on a wooden floor, Wagon Yard being one the oldest
country-western restaurants in Phoenix, if you haven't been
there you're missing the best excitement in this desert city.