Badland Trails

BADLAND TRAILSMy 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.