Ranch
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My life was changed last summer
At a place called Turn-About Ranch
Some would call it a bummer
But for me, it was a second chance
I arrived scared, lonely, and torn
I was sick and tired of trying
What I would give to be in Wyoming.
Where mountains hug the sky
and the wind whispers stories of yesterday.
Where lakes mirror dusty pine trees
and Father Sun is close enough to burn sunflowers
I am from sweat and hard work,
from the searing heat of summer
and the freezing chill of winter.
I am from the horse kicked dirt,
and the cattle-branded smoke blowing in the wind.
My brown calloused hands stare back at me,
Each little groove caked with dirt,
Scratches filled with muck,
Blisters oozing their complaints,
after a grueling day of work.
They are the hands of a rancher,
When you open the box,
The smell of sizzling cheese
Wafts through air.
When you reach for the bottle,
The temperature,
So cool,
Permeates to your hand.
Ranch
and
Cheese pizza:
