The saddle cowered on the skyward rail

As dust pollinated the sleepy corral

Cowgirls n boys glistened with excitement

As they waited to mount their prompts

Leggings flapped black into the word wind

As creativity set them all a-spin …

 

Would ninety-nine wild words perform enough

To thrust their pernicious fictional factors

Across the bucking bull baloney that each

And everyone scented was their grandiose purpose

Each explored western entertainment for those at

The Carrot Ranch who read their rawhide creations

 

Family and fiends struggled to grasp their dire need

To mount and breed these stallions from those stables!

 

A wee offering in the Dylan Thomas style I’ve just met at dVerse