Yes...one more poem...for now. Bear with me here, folks! Hope y'all like it!
She finds herself high in the hill country, surrounded by mountains with names as wild as the land they sprang from.
As she climbs the peaks and rides the range, she's quickly falling in love with this place--
The air, the moon, and the sage.
He's a buckaroo hand who pulls his weight and throws his reata from atop his yellow pony with the white spot on its neck.
She watches as he punches cows all day and laughs and sings by the fire at night,
With his brother and sister by his side, and his little cowboy nephews on his lap.
They exchange glances and blushing half-smiles, and everyone whispers about how they should settle down together.
She listens and wishes and dreams, but she knows that they will never fold their hands together, because they pray differently...
So she'll just keep wandering and searching until she finds the man that God's made for her,
Tucked away on a plot of green land, his spurs jingling and his scarf waving in the wind,
Under the sky and away from the road, just waiting for her to arrive.
But until then, she'll keep that picture in her mind of that Idaho cowboy.