You gotta talk cowboy to follow this tale, 
Gotta roll in the corral dust, not sit on top rail. 
The heart and the spirit of Sublette lie here, 
In cowboys and ranchers, though progress is near.
Yes - this poem, my friend, is in cowboy tongue, 
'Bout mating a team so fresh and young... 

A wedding took place in the wild, old West, 
And all the good folk wore their Saturday best. 
A lively "green" pair, together are hitched, 
And the singular life they both have ditched.

Yes, the bride was lovely in dress of white. 
The groom, so handsome that magic night.
The minister sealed the blessed marriage, 
Then a pickup truck was the chosen carriage. 

After vittles and cake in the reception hall, 
The band played first dance and all had a ball. 
The music they played was grand and sweet, 
As guests took a whirl to a boot-scoot beat. 

The groom's now harnessed and works on the "grass," 
The bride's on the left, the most fortunate lass. 
A team need not mirror each other at all, 
If the harmony's yoked, be it large or small. 

Each load that they start will be pulled together; 
If one should fall, the tongue's held by the other. 
And when life's great tasks seem to be rough-locked, 
An honest team won't sulk or balk. 

They'll lean forward as one, keep the tugs up tight; 
With the right kind of luck, things will turn out right. 
The couple thanks family and friends so true, 
For their help celebrating this union brand new. 
"When a hitchin' occurs, it's a might grand change!" 
Say this honeymoon couple now Home on the Range.

Copyrights: Photos and page text content copyrighted, Cris Paravicini, 1999. No part may be reproduced without permission of the author/photographer. Page graphics copyrighted, Pinedale Online, 1999.