Insect chatter rides the gusts, birdsong floats on the wane
Of wave on wave of sighing wind whispering over the plain;
Rustling brush and shivering grass caress and kiss the ear-
The peacefulness of cattle country is in the noise you hear.

Tight-bagged cows low gently, calling calves to sup
Mourning doves sing concert with a whining coyote pup
Then a buckaroo comes riding through, looking like a king
But of the stillness 'round about hears not a blessed thing.

Silver rowels the size of pesos rattle in hoofbeat time
Ringing jinglebobs sing along in harmony and rhyme;
Tiny bells on cinch hobble jangle in the dangle,
A chorus line of curb chains tinkles in the tangle.

The cricket in the high-port bit chirps rhythm with its roll
Dinging watch fob swings along below vest buttonhole;
The royals jewels of the calling make music to his ear,
And the buckaroo thinks as he rides along, It sure is quiet out here!