He wandered since childhood a dream all his own
To prance as a stallion, lite dancing on back
He began practicing, prancing and the such
Yet an Ass is an Ass and a Stallion is not!
Yet the desert Ass knew not!
He would dance upon starlight, practiced every night
To dance, rear like a Stallion, glimmering bold in nights moonlight
He held high his head, his purpose, dream as well
To find the one who loved him, masquerading as a Stallion in regal, yet quite undone
Yet ridicule shadowed his every inch of path roamed
He pranced into villages seeking his Indian girl of vision dream,
Whilst all stood a mocking the desert ass covered in common and plain
They spit on, and jeered him, even stick beat him at times
Yet he walked as a Stallion upon sunsbreath of time
For he above all, knew exactly his name
He now walked a slow path, yes, due to age
Not as tall, as he stood in younger past day
He still wandered and roamed deserts, villages the same
Searching for his Indian Princess, the one of his dreams
One night all alone in the desert, when no sound was heard
He awoken to her breath, whispering these words
I know how you sought me, the long dust filled road
But I'm here now, so hush now, whilst I yes, disrobe
Night fell to dawn break, bright eyed lovers in Mays way
When the dawn broke she kissed him, magic haze cast in the way
He snorted head raised high, back straightened in the way
Stood taller and leaner, more muscular in array
To pool of water they went underway, to face the looking-glass for spectators view
Astonished, he stood only one brief moment in time, before
He reared up swirling in blazed power, a magnificent Stallion sweeping time forevermore!
Story goes, they still prance upon sunsets somwhere in the west
Where the cliffs provide safe haven, and amany lovers nest
The are seen riding upon puff clouds, Indian girl mounted upon his strong back
Twirling and dancing, skipping upon times back
They say when you glimpse them, and your breath is gone clean, that loves touching you back.
Bliss..pure bliss.. I sense this to be, perhaps, biographical, yes? I'm reminded of 'we are only limited by our imagination'.. she saw him as he saw himself, a stallion.. for that is what he is. When you write like this, Rodney, you move us all into the realm of that stallion. I so loved the very last thought.. the last two lines. I felt my breath catch.. and I smiled. katy.
Reviewed by Nicole Davis Vergara (Reader)
Reviewed on May 23, 2003
Rodney,
This is a beautiful story via poetry you have told here for us! I loved the read...Thank You!:O)
~Nikki~
"Ass" was good enough for Jesus....when he neede transport
So it is more than good enough for me....must be that same ass that became this
BRIGHT Wild Desert Ass.....hehehehe!!!
beautiful write Rodney.....just don't kick me ...for this silly comment...lol!!
A further collection of poems, many from years in the Middle East, but also the California San Francisco and Central Coast areas (Santa Cruz, Carmel, Big Sur, Berkeley, etc.).
My absolute favorite line perhaps of all time
This is a beautiful story via poetry you have told here for us! I loved the read...Thank You!:O)
~Nikki~
Reindeer
Candy
I love these tales in poetry such beautiful and raw imagery
Peggy
So it is more than good enough for me....must be that same ass that became this
BRIGHT Wild Desert Ass.....hehehehe!!!
beautiful write Rodney.....just don't kick me ...for this silly comment...lol!!
Love
Tinka
--Karissa
~Joseph