Kicking Up Dust on the Trail
The trail might be tough, but a cowboy always finds a way forward.
At dawns first light, the canvas wakes,
With smoke that curls from sizzling steaks.
The chuckwagons spread, a sight to see,
Holds eggs and bacon, all made for thee.
Cowboys gather ‘round, their plates they stack,
A mountain high of grub, no looking back.
With flapjacks piled like hills of gold,
They laugh and jest, their stories unfold.
The first bite’s bliss, a savory thrill,
But soon they groan, Im fit to spill!
With chuckles loud, they trade good-natured jibes,
As plates grow empty, but not their vibes.
So here’s to the feast where laughter swims,
In New Mexico’s light, the spirit brims.
A belly buster breakfast, they dare to face,
In each hearty bite, lives the cowboys grace.
Copyright © 2024 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved