A Bit of Poetry

City Horse

City horse, born and bred
With a stable for your home
Do you ever wish you’d been raised
Where the buffalo used to roam?

Do you ever yearn for vaulted skies
And miles of rolling hills
For towering pines and canyons wide
And the cry of the whippoorwill?

Would you like to run and kick your heels
As you frolic over the plains
Unfettered by saddle and iron shoes
And my hand upon the reins?

Do you long for grass instead of hay
For trees where the concrete grows;
Do you ever wish for the wild life
Your ancestors used to know?

City horse, born and bred
I know you’d rather be free
But I’m glad that you’re a city horse
‘Cause you’re a dream come true for me.

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Cowboy’s Lament

No horses in heaven?
Why, I’d rather stay outside
Unless my favorite old red roan
Is awaitin’ there to ride

Cause my idea of heaven
Is an endless sea of grass
An azure sky, a crystal stream
A snow-topped mountain pass

A well-broke Texas saddle
My battered old John B
But most of all that big red horse
A ploddin’ under me

Now I’m not knocking angels
Nor choirs of heavenly song
Nor golden streets and pearly gates
Or clouds that roll along

But I’ve no use for silver wings
A tune I cannot carry, and
While golden streets might be grand
I’d rather ride the prairie

I’ve spent my life a’wanderin’
From sea to shining sea
And that’s how we’d like heaven
That old red horse, and me.

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copyright Madeline Baker 7/12/06