George M. Noblitt

THE SPOTTED PONY

 

The old horse slowly moved up the hill

Until he reached the crest

At first I thought he had only paused

For a moment of needed rest

 

Weather beaten from the many years

That were often times unkind

The harshness could not take from him

The treasures of his mind

 

As he glances over the rough terrain

Through the early morning mist

I saw a twinkle in his eye

As old memories he reminisced

 

He drifted back to the spotted pony

It seemed so long ago

A time no mountain was too tall

Nor a valley too far below

 

He thought of all the plush green valleys

Where sweet tall grasses grow

Where once the land had given way

To wild game and buffalo

 

He could nearly taste the cool water

From a stream in the past

As he tried almost desperately

To make the memories last

 

To once more feel a summer breeze

Full of nurtured life

Recalled a calming of his soul

To clear away the strife

 

As he stood atop the jagged ledge

The memories began to fade

As the years began to seize him back

Where once the dreams were made

 

Slowly he descended from the rock

To the warm sand below

He stopped, looked back and then moved on

From a time so long ago