Page 22 - PoetryBookFinal052021
P. 22
I never saw a campfire there, While others measure wealth with money
Flickering warm it's amber light. Or by counting what they own.
And I didn't hear the lone wolf, Your treasure's here with family'n friends
As he greets the shadows of the night. An this range you call your home
I never saw one newborn colt, Cowboy's are a different breed,
Running free as wind neath wings on high Rawhide in every stitch.
An I never saw a sunset there Fact is, when your a cowboy son
To match the mountain's purple sky. ,.... Your already rich
I've seen this range in good times an bad, By R.L Brinegar
Seems like a million times to me.
But every time I see a sunrise or sunset
It's where I want to be.
