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.
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.
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
This book represents a thirty-day period of my poetry journal. Each poem addresses
the dominant thoughts occupying my mind during the early morning hours of a given
day.
Questions, unquestioned discoveries, and answers in parable and rhyme…. This collection records a journey starting with a 1960s retrospective and the first man on the moon, moving to a new millennium welcomed in with a terrorist spin, family crises,
