Silver Sand

Silver sand blew always, On west Texas desert wind, Rider man with stallion, Both gone dry and thin. Atop tall peaks in sky, Eagles rest in view, Rider man with stallion, Across west desert flew. In lands to further south, Roamed in greener grass, Rider man with stallion, In days long gone past. Atop tall peaks in sky, In west Texas desert night, Silver sands awaited, An end not yet created. SeaWolf ©