Under the Rusted Windmill: Stories Born of Quiet Persistence

It takes a steady hand and a bold heart to tame the wild west.

Under the rusted windmill’s sway,

The dust storms dance, where shadows play.

Old stories linger, whispered low,

Of hearts that braved both friend and foe.

A tarnished blade, once sharp and bright,

Stands witness to each starry night.

Beneath its arms, the past unfolds,

In gentle tones, the truth beholds.

The horses graze, with manes like fire,

While dreams are spun from wild desire.

With every mile and every trial,

Quiet persistence brings a smile.

Now dawn ascends, the world anew,

A canvas bright with every hue.

With grit and grace, the cowboy rides,

Chasing the hope that never hides.