BADLAND TRAILS

My pony’s bridle lays across a hay bail. A black saddle straddles a fence post rail. From blurry eyes a tear drop may fall. Ghostly apparitions of a memory to recall.

In days of youth mounting from fence rails, rider on pony would wander endless trails. My mount would forever faithfully guide, when crossing haunted badlands at a stride.

Quotes

I am delighted by the romanticism of the poetry, making light of the hardships.

I want to be a cowboy and live in the romantic era of open trails and endless plains.

The cowboy life is humorous when looked at by Mr. Cheeks-Too-Soft.