by Amy Elizabeth
We are what we are ’cause age tells no lie,
My ol’ horse ain’t what he was but either am I.
He’s ready to go trail ridin’ at the drop of a hat,
I reckon me too, long as the terrain is somewhat flat.
His head’s bobbin’ from a stiff left shoulder,
But it hardly shows until the weather’s colder.
Can’t say I’m no different on any given day,
My hips get to achin’ just from mountin’ that dinky bay.
I tossed around the thought of puttin’ em fer sale,
But I knew his worth was prob’ly less than a three wire bale.
The difference between value an’ worth took time to see,
I realize now he’s invaluable to an ol’ nag like me.
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You can get more information at her blog by clicking HERE.
Stories of the Old West were an inspirational tool in my early cowboy poetry. Born in Chicago, Illinois, horses were sparse and cowboys few – but if there’s a will there’s a cowboy way. Today, home is on a small ranch in Arizona where horses are plentiful and cowboys are an arm’s length away. I’m currently at work on a Western Romance Novel, and I just completed my first book of Western Folk Poetry. Sometimes you have to grab life by the reins, put weight in the stirrups, sit deep, and chance every mountain no matter how steep.