The Call of the Open Range
The wild west wasn’t tamed by sitting still—it took courage to follow the horizon.
Upon the range, where the prairie sways,
A chuckwagon meal drew cowboys gaze.
Beneath the stars, a feast was laid,
With beans and biscuits, a grand parade.
But in the shadows, with crafty grace,
A coyote lined up for his chase.
His eyes aglow, a mischief born,
He pounced on the food, all the cowboys scorn.
The pots tipped over, and laughter soared,
As beans rolled free, like wild uprored.
With every tumble, the chaos grew,
That sly little rogue, oh where he flew!
So when the night brought raucous cheer,
And cowboys danced with hearts sincere,
They learned that joy, on trails so wide,
Could come from a coyote, full of pride.
Copyright © 2024 Randy Salars
All rights reserved
All rights reserved