With Boots Firm on the Ground

The Old West didn’t reward hesitation—it honored those who acted with purpose.

With boots firm on the ground, he stands tall,

The whispering winds through the canyons call.

Beneath a sky where the hawks wheel high,

He rides the range, with dreams to occupy.

The sun beats down on the parched earths seam,

As dust swirls ‘round, he chases a dream.

A lonesome star in the vast sea of night,

Guides him through shadows with steadfast light.

His heart beats steady, like hooves on the trail,

Each step a story, each breath a tale.

From rugged mountains to valleys so wide,

He finds his freedom, with no need to hide.

As the fire crackles, warm by its glow,

The cowboy reflects on the paths he’ll sow.

With boots firm on the ground and horizons bright,

He’ll ride for the dawn till the stars take flight.