Chasing Dreams Across the Plains
Out here, every cowboy knows that fortune favors the bold.
In a saloon where shadows dance,
With laughter ringing like a chance,
The cowboys gather, cards in hand,
Their poker faces, oh so grand.
Beneath the brim, sly glances weave,
As cards are played, and some mislead.
With every bluff, the laughter swells,
A raucous tale that no one tells.
Old Jesse claims a three of a kind,
While slyly he keeps a nine in mind.
The whiskey flows, their wit runs wild,
A gamble sparked, like a restless child.
As night wears on, the stakes grow high,
With whoops and cheers that fill the sky.
In the game of chance beneath the stars,
The heart of the West beats among those bars.
Copyright © 2025 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved