The Shadow of the Old Oak: Stories Told by a Tree That Has Seen It All

It wasn’t the land that made cowboys—it was their untamed spirit.

In the shadow of the old oak tree,

Where whispers wove through branches free,

Beneath its boughs, the legends lie,

Of cowboys bold and dreams that fly.

A tempest tossed the prairie grass,

While roping clouds in thunderous mass,

Each summers sun and winters chill,

Reads like a tale of iron will.

The oak recalls the riders plight,

Their laughter ringing through the night,

With every crack and weathered scar,

It tells of hope beneath the stars.

So gather round as stories flow,

Of hearts that dared and courage low,

With roots that burrow deep in fate,

The old oaks truth cant wait, can™t wait.