Everyone should ride a wild horse once.

It doesn't have to be purple or green;

or breathe fire;

or stand defiant against a black'ning sky;

or have a horned head;

or winged fetlocks.

My horse bore a lithesome blue-eyed damsel

with burning cheeks and windblown hair.

She smiled, and I looked about

to be sure I was the conferee

of those eyes whose brightness transcended

time. Then in the space of a single heartbeat, I leapt;

into the wind bestrode that mighty steed we rode.

I rode a wild horse once.

In my memory I ride still.



Rod (AMPAW@aol.com)





Watch these pages for more poems by Rod.
In the meantime, click the links below for
poems and stories by our other authors.

Balancing Act

Autumn Leaves In Haiku

Gentle Mornings


Queen Anne's Lace


The Grand Old Mansion

Fishing Upstream

And.......for many others, click the index image.

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