The Meadow’s Hidden Guardian: A Lone Tree Standing the Test of Time

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

In the meadow’s heart, a lone tree stands,

With branches stretched like welcoming hands.

Its gnarled trunk bears tales from days of yore,

A sentinel strong, where legends soar.

By summers light, the whispers weave,

Of cowboys dreams and the old tales grieve.

Beneath the shade, where weary heads rest,

The tree holds secrets, its roots are blessed.

When storm clouds gather, and thunder roars,

The branches dance as the wild wind soars.

Yet, steadfast it remains, through sun and strife,

Guardian of stories, embracing life.

As twilight descends on the rolling hills,

The stars awake, and the night air chills.

The lone tree watches, both wise and free,

In the meadows embrace, it shall always be.