The Dusty Trail

A glacier like a cowboy sat Upon the foothills. And just like that The climate changed from hope To glad. And just like that a bar of soap Was drawn from the rhinestone-clad holster. With pink and orange stones it did stir The emotions pride and reverence But didn’t make sense With its raven claw and bunny paw. That type of injustice should be against the law. To bathe with soap upon the skin With water warm and a glass of gin, Made cold with glacial ice, those are nice Experiences to have. And then to roll the dice Into the saloon and pollute the soul With games of chance. Such a toll Does pleasure take upon the Puritan [for those believers, anyway]. A ban Would ameliorate, if self-imposed. Unfeeling cowboys are never so disposed.