Whistling Through the Prairie Winds
A cowboy learns to face the winds with grit and a song in his heart.
In golden fields where wild winds blow,
A tumbleweed dreams of the fame she’d sow.
She whispers tunes to the setting sun,
A heart of dust, yet her hopes outrun.
She rolls along the moonlit trails,
Past ghostly towns with whispering tales.
The night birds harmonize her sweet refrain,
As restless souls find comfort in the pain.
With every gust, she yearns to sing,
For cowboys’ hearts in their sorrow cling.
The stars above like notes in a score,
Longing to be heard from canyon to shore.
Yet she knows, as she sways in the breeze,
That fame is a dance, not a simple tease.
Still, in her heart, a melody thrives,
For even a tumbleweed’s dream survives.
Copyright © 2024 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved