In my mind,
I’m still a little cowboy
sitting on a wooden
hobby horse
on my parents’ shag
carpet.
I’m still a little cowboy
sitting on a wooden
hobby horse
on my parents’ shag
carpet.
I could barely walk upright
and only knew a few words
like mommy, daddy and
ice-cream on good days.
and only knew a few words
like mommy, daddy and
ice-cream on good days.
I wore a ten-gallon hat,
slipped into a pair of Tony Lamas,
and pulled up my Wrangler jeans.
slipped into a pair of Tony Lamas,
and pulled up my Wrangler jeans.
I rode the dusty canyon path
and played my guitar,
heated up weenies on an open
fire.
and played my guitar,
heated up weenies on an open
fire.
I rocked my wooden
hobby horse
under a Montana full moon,
down the dusty roads,
up the rocky inclines
chasing cattle rustlers
and men on
Most Wanted posters.
hobby horse
under a Montana full moon,
down the dusty roads,
up the rocky inclines
chasing cattle rustlers
and men on
Most Wanted posters.
I could ride forever in my mind,
I could lasso up all the
calves and steers I could find.
I could lasso up all the
calves and steers I could find.
I could capture all the bad guys,
put them behind bars
and still, be ready for dinnertime.
put them behind bars
and still, be ready for dinnertime.
This poem first published in the Scarlet Leaf Review in the March/April 2019 issue.
Crow On The Wire 
How wonderful! 🙂
Thank you.
You are Welcome Mark 🙂
I lo so enjoy your poem. It is great and antertaining.
This sweet guy on his hobby horse achieved an awful lot in one day – before dinner. 😊 .
miriam
Thank you, Miriam. We should all have full days like that. 🙂
How right you are Mark. Do you think we make to heavy weather of life’s chores? 😊
Yes we do. More fun and play is called for. 🙂🙂
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Thanks, RR.
Really a great post, Mark! Loved it!!
Thank you, RR.
An exquisite evocation of what it meant to be a child.
Thank you, Liz. One of my favorite phases of life. 🙂🙂
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Thanks.