The Saddle’s Empty Rest: A Cowboy’s Farewell to the Range

In the Old West, your word was your bond, and respect was earned the hard way.

Upon the plain where wild winds blow,

His saddle rests, the suns soft glow.

A faithful heart now bids goodbye,

To endless skies, where echoes sigh.

The dust of trails, where hooves have stamped,

Holds whispers of a life well-camped.

Through prickly pears and mesas high,

He rode with dreams, as wide as sky.

By crackling fire, the stories spun,

Of daring rides neath setting sun.

But now the call of mountains dense,

Invites a peace, a quiet sense.

So lift the reins, let memories dance,

In twilight hues, he takes his chance.

The saddle™s empty, yet spirits soar,

To vast horizons, forever more.