When the West Was Wild
It wasn’t the land that made cowboys—it was their untamed spirit.
On dusty trails the chuckwagon rolls,
Its canvas stretched like dreams untold.
With pots of gold beneath the sun,
A feast awaits when day is done.
The cook swings wide his seasoned spoon,
With beans that dance like a cheerful tune.
Cornbread warms by the crackling flame,
While laughter fills the evenings claim.
Straw hats tipped, the cowhands share,
Sweet apple pie and smoky air.
Each bite a tale of wild embrace,
Where flavors mingle, time cant erase.
As stars ignite in the Western night,
They toast their lives, hearts full and bright.
For in this kitchen, joys unfurled,
The chuckwagons laughter feeds the world.
Copyright © 2024 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved