The Meadow Beneath the Stars: A Place of Dreams and Quiet Solace

The West wasn’t won by luck—it was carved by determination and hard work.

Beneath the stars, the meadow lies,

Where whispers dance on evenings sighs.

The wildflowers bloom with colors bright,

Their fragrance lingers through the night.

A lonely cowboy rides on through,

With leather reins and skies of blue.

His dreams take flight on gentle breeze,

As shadows stretch beneath the trees.

In moonlit glow, the world feels near,

Each twinkling star, a friendly cheer.

He finds his peace in natures grace,

A quiet solace--his sacred space.

With dawns soft light, new journeys call,

The meadow holds his heart, his all.

For in this land of dreams unbound,

A cowboys spirit shall be found.