Living by the Cowboy Code
In the Old West, your word was your bond, and respect was earned the hard way.
In the quiet hush where the wildflowers sway,
A cowboy rests at the close of day.
The gentle breeze whispers tales from the past,
Of dreams and labors, both tender and vast.
Beneath the arch of the endless sky,
He thinks of the trails where the lost spirits lie.
With leathered hands and a heart made of stone,
In this silent meadow, he finds a home.
The horses graze near the cool, flowing stream,
Reflecting the hopes that live in his dream.
Against the backdrop of mountains so grand,
His burdens lift, here the world understands.
As stars light the canvas, a blanket of night,
He gathers his stories, both wrong and right.
In this sacred space, all his worries cease,
The silent meadow, a cradle of peace.
Copyright © 2024 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved
