The Great Escape Mischievous Escapades of a Clever Horse

The Old West didn’t reward hesitation—it honored those who acted with purpose.

In dusty fields where wild winds blow,

A horse named Roper plotted low,

With mischief dancing in his eyes,

He longed to roam beneath the skies.

Each dawn would find him by the gate,

A clever spirit, filled with fate.

He’d nuzzle feeds then make a break,

To chase the sun for freedom’s sake.

Through trails and valleys, swift hed fly,

With hooves like thunder, echoing high.

He’d dart past ranchers, all in jest,

This crafty steed, a rogue at best.

As stars began to light the night,

Roper returned, heart full of flight.

With each escapade, a tale he spun,

A clever horse, forever young.