A humorous rhyming poem about a true tale involving me when young, my father, and an old horse.
Way back when I was a young lad,
my family was citified.
An old horse our country aunt had
offered any brave child a ride.
On one Sunday visit there, all
my older cousins had their turn.
I wanted to ride. “I won’t fall!”
My father was filled with concern.
My aunt said, “That old nag just plods
along. It would be safe, I’m sure.”
Dad asks to ride him first. She nods;
horse and Dad head down the pasture.
At the far end ran a small road;
a passing car loudly backfired.
The horse had speed he never showed;
getting to the barn he desired.
That horse galloped at breakneck pace.
I recall the scene to this day.
A look of terror on Dad’s face,
he shouted words old sailors say.
They arrived at a barbed wire fence.
What came next I’ve remembered since:
The horse cleared the wire! Dad stayed on.
Seeing the low barn door, Dad jumped,
landing on his back with a groan.
How they’d made that fence left all stumped.
Dad lay on the ground. To my joy
he was unhurt, just a tad dazed.
Dad had ridden like a cowboy!
His fence jump left me quite amazed.
My chances of riding horses
ended with that gallop and leap.
While need to race wildly courses
through them, no cowboy in me sleeps!
My soulmate owns two horses, both supposedly calm, but I don't care to ride either one, no way, they are much bigger than me & allowing myself to ride would just contribute further to my personal insanity...-e-
In a way, I'm so glad it was your dad instead of you that took that first ride on that "old nag." I know from experience how bad barbed wire fence can be for both horse and man, so I'm glad they cleared it. And your dad was playing a movie part when he avoided that half door that surely would have given him quite a bump!
As a kid without horses, I got to ride ponies once in a while, but don't remember. What I do remember is, the year after I was paralyzed when I was either 21 or 22, my mother took me out to a local farm where they had a trail ride through the woods. They gave me an old sway back nag as the most gentle horse to ride. It was the only time I ever saw my mother ride a horse and I rode behind her that evening. The saddle was particularly hard on my butt as the horse moved up and down and side to side while walking, not trotting or running. While I had half grip on them reins with my paralyzed hands, my legs didn't seem to have a grip on the horse's sides or my feet well anchored in the stirrups. I spent the whole time rocking back and forth, trying desperately to keep from falling off on my head and breaking my neck for good. So, it wasn't a pleasant experience.
My twin brother married the two-time Wisconsin State Rodeo Queen. She did fantastic tricks on her horse, Ebony. She couldn't afford to go to Las Vegas for the nationals, but he said that she would have won. Not only was she beautiful in her sequined outfits, she was a real rough rider.
Horses can be frightening when unprepared, I rode my first horse when I was 16, it took to a neck breaking speed, and I hung on for dear life, lol, when I think about it I laugh, but I didn't back then great story, xo
I was never afraid of horses, I suppose it was because I was raised in a small Arkansas town where almost everyone either had horses or had access to them.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
Each person is but a grain of sand resting beside the sea. This thought sets the tone for Jill Eisnaugle’s latest poetry collection, Beside Still Waters.
Welcome!
The poems in this beautifully bound book are a result of over twenty years of observations. Observations of the world around us and on the telecommunications network. All of the hate, love, heroism, disasters, and those who help.
Beautif
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As a kid without horses, I got to ride ponies once in a while, but don't remember. What I do remember is, the year after I was paralyzed when I was either 21 or 22, my mother took me out to a local farm where they had a trail ride through the woods. They gave me an old sway back nag as the most gentle horse to ride. It was the only time I ever saw my mother ride a horse and I rode behind her that evening. The saddle was particularly hard on my butt as the horse moved up and down and side to side while walking, not trotting or running. While I had half grip on them reins with my paralyzed hands, my legs didn't seem to have a grip on the horse's sides or my feet well anchored in the stirrups. I spent the whole time rocking back and forth, trying desperately to keep from falling off on my head and breaking my neck for good. So, it wasn't a pleasant experience.
My twin brother married the two-time Wisconsin State Rodeo Queen. She did fantastic tricks on her horse, Ebony. She couldn't afford to go to Las Vegas for the nationals, but he said that she would have won. Not only was she beautiful in her sequined outfits, she was a real rough rider.
Ron