Chili Cactus Cowboy

Out where the dust rolls deep and wide, Beneath the vast, endless sky, A cowpoke roamed with a wandering heart, On a land where the tales spin and dart. He rode through the scrub, the sage, and the sand, A lonesome trail through the arid land, Till he spied in the shimmer of the noonday glare, A curious sight, quite rare and fair. A cactus stood where the earth was cracked, Not armed with spines, but with chilis packed. Bright as embers from a campfire's glow, Hung from the arms in the sun's hot show. The cowpoke paused, tipped his wide-brimmed hat, Wondered at this, wondered at that. "How in the blazes," he softly swore, "Does a cactus sprout chilis galore?" With a cautious poke and a wary grin, He plucked one chili, thin as sin. Bit down deep, felt the fiery lance, That set his taste buds out to dance. "Oh, what a find!" he laughed with glee, As visions of chili feasts ran wild and free. "Why, with this plant, I reckon I'll stay, Turn chili cowboy, day by day." He built a shack by that spicy tree, Lived out his days with hearty glee. Cooked up stews and fiery brews, Shared his tales with any who'd choose. So if you ride by the desert's heart, Where the earth is scorched and the horizons part, Look for the shack where the chilis grow, And the cowboy who cooks with a fiery show. That chili cactus, legend says, Still grows in the wild, where the coyote treads. And the cowpoke's laughter mixes just right With the howling winds of the desert night.