How I Like

I like my mountains high, half green and tips white.

I like my meadows green, but water logged.

I like the sun as my alarm clock and a moon as my curfew. 

I like my hair nest and face dirty.

I like my perfect blue jeans, and boots with mud.
 I like my summer's sun, and evenings crisp.

The days white cloudy, and nights  bright starry.

I like my men country, and my daddy's rifle. 

I like streams and the trickles, frogs jump as a ride.

I like my fishing hole, with Brook and Rainbow; just right.

 I like my tree stand, walls of mounts and pride.

I like the cut grass smell, the ticking of sprinklers turn.

I like the quake of aspen, a distant song of a meadowlark. 

I like the simple and the easy and the beauty and the peace.

I like my place to myself, keep it secretly safe.

I like my home and my heart, my rhythm and sway. 

Home's not where the your heart beats, but where beats sync with kin. 

This is my place, my castle, Montana's always been