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MARY A. GALLAGHER KAUFMAN

Featured in "The Big Roundup," an anthology of the best of CowboyPoetry.com.

 

 

Are There Horses in Heaven?


If I must face an after-life,
don't saddle me with harps and wings
or place a crown upon my head
for golden halos, all such things,
I do bequeath to those who'll find
themselves with saints for company
content to stand before a throne
in adoration, singing praise
to God throughout eternity.
Don't clothe me in an angel's robe
woven on empyrean's loom,
or shoe my feet in sandals meant
for Eden's paths, but give me room
to freely roam the universe,
find new worlds and chart my course
where I may spend eternity
astride a swift Arabian horse
that can't be bribed with silken tent
nor fenced-in pastures, clover grown.
Give me a steed who scorns the bit,
who's hot of blood and freedom-prone.
Let me and some Arabian mare
become as water, earth and air--
two rebel spirits spurning fences,
walls and heavenly Eminences.

I have no wish for Paradise
if horses are forbidden there
and golden New Jerusalem
is a city thoroughfare.
Though I'm now bound and restrained by
nature's law of gravity,
my soul, at times, takes wings to soar
and heaven means a horse to me!


Saddle Fever

So, the bug has really bit you. It's come right up and hit you
and life's not worth the living if you cannot own a horse.
Saddle-fever, son, is galling--down deep inside it's calling
and there's nothing you can do but let nature take its course.

I'd give you some advice and you needn't ask me twice
for I've seen it all before and I know just what you'll buy.
Some spavined nag will meet you; with a nicker he will greet you
and you'll fall head over heels when he looks you in the eye.

You may have a type in mind, but you might as well be blind
if you think your heart's desire is to own a stalwart bay.
I'll bet you ten to one that before the day is done
you'll wind up with a paint or dappled gray.

Your troubles have just started when you homeward have him carted
to find you may have bitten slightly more than you can chew,
but once he is your own; a black, a bay, a white or roan--
you have joined our legion brother and I'm pleased to welcome you!


 

 

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