I shall wear turquoise and diamonds,
And a straw hat that doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my social security on red wine and carrots,
And sit in the alley-way of my barn
And listen to my horses breathe.
I will sneak out in the middle of a summer night and ride the old dun gelding across the moonstruck meadow
if my old bones will allow.
And when people come to call, I will smile and nod as I walk past the gardens to the barn and show instead the flowers growing inside stalls fresh lined with straw.
I will shovel and sweat and wear hay in my hair as if it were a jewel.
And I will be an embarrassment to all,
Who have not yet found the peace in being free to have a horse as a
A friend who waits at midnight hour
With muzzle and nicker and patient eyes
For the kind of woman I will be
When I am old.
thats nice that...when i'm an old woman you'll read about me in the local rag/see me on granada reports...i'll probably be found dead in a rundown house with a pony, a pig and some ducks in the garden, 40 cats and half eaten by an emaciated alsation....
I wish they were mine but no. I have osme I wrote about horses but wont post them here because they were just straight form my herat at that moment and few would feel the same i do as when I wrote them. Most wouldnt undrstand. I just love love stories about horses and share them with others.