Her image is there on horseback
In the mountains or even the plains
Just beyond the reason of dreamers
This angel of the range
She's there in every campfire
Her eyes shine in the coals
Every lone some rider's love
In their heart and soul
Her smile is in the sunrise
Her tears are in the rain
Her laughter tinkles from the creeks
To ease each cowboys pain
Where emptiness is all they feel
` Cause they've been alone too long
She's there to hold them close to her
Soothing with the night bird song
She's a different gal to every puncher
No buckaroo sees her the same
She's short, tall and dark, or fair
And may not even have a name
Yes, she is the same yet different
To you this may sound strange
She's every lonesome rider's sweet heart
She's the Angel of the Range.
this reminds me of the song Brandy for sailors that are so in love with the call of the sea. I had never really thought about how a rider has the same passion, but reading this it makes sense. You did such a lovely job of telling the story while weaving it into poetic form. I must say it captured my imagination right from the start. A wonderful write!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem/story! And true all the way through, I am certain. The old Cowboys know of whom you speak...