The Yucca Plant.

Out where I live , There is a tough little plant.
Respected by most,...Except for an ant.
Yucca, They call it. That's Spanish I suppose.
Ain't much to look at...Compared to a Rose.
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It's a nuisance to a Cowboy, mending a fence.
Taking time to destroy them, Don't make much sense.
So we work around them ,and try not to rub.
The unforgiving poke, of this little shrub.
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It never attacks, Only defends.
Takes a Hell of a wind, To make them bend.
Don't require much moisture, For this plant to live.
It survives on what little. The Desert will give.
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Cowhands and Yucca. Both survive in the West.
The elements have eliminated. All but the best.
As they stand tall, Year after Year.
After the Hell they've gone through. Ain't much left to fear.
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So if you see either one. They're best left alone.
As their roots have grown deep. In the crack of a stone.
They fear no Wind, Lightning or Rain.
To invade their space, Will only bring pain.
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If you approach with care. And move real slow.
Wear proper foot gear , to protect your toe.
Just give some Respect, And admire from a distance.
These Western evolutions, of strong resistance.