The Cactus Wrangler’s Circus Comical Attempts to Corral Unruly Cacti

The only way to find new horizons is to keep riding toward the setting sun.

In Arizonas sun, where the tumbleweeds roll,

A wrangler named Jim had a curious goal.

With a lasso of twine and a joke on his tongue,

He sought out wild cacti, to catch them, so fun.

He rode through the brush, with a grin ear to ear,

Those prickly-pear brutes were giving him fear.

With spines like the thorns on a vengeful rose,

He chased them across the desert, in comical prose.

Oh, cactus, come here, he™d shout with delight,

As they danced ˜round the sagebrush, elusive and bright.

Each lunge met with laughter, each tumble his fate,

Wrangling the cacti seemed simply too late.

But under the stars, as night™s curtain fell,

He learned that in laughter, the wild ones could dwell.

For in every struggle, with spines and with glee,

A wranglers heart softens, and so must we be.