She dances on moonbeams at midnight...And red streaks of color at dawn...This princess of equine splendor, Who runs with the wind all day long... She arches her head at the geldings, Showing a sensuous eye...This princess of equine splendor, Could show Cleopatra how to be sly... She loves her grain with a passion...And guards her hay with finesse...This princess of equine splendor, Who God so beautifully blessed... She turns her head as I'm coming..She know's she's mine all the way...This princess of equine splendor, Has my heart, and I've hers..for all days... *** Written for my horse (the princess diva) aka known as Comanche's Lunar Nova...Smokeymtshadow..2008

WHY ? He loved her, long before they ever met Knowing not, the stage had been set Clever seduction, "Act 1" was in play Ruby's this Tuesday? It started that way A natural, gifted in her role A touch of her hand, uplifted his soul Her lines memorized, delivered with skill Left open his heart, exposed for the kill An Oscar performance, she gave it her all Love lost in her, as best he recalls A story without end, until he knows WHY ? She could not say, "I'm sorry" nor bid him "Goodbye" Jimmie Michael Anderson

well i have read for the last six pages of posts and i have laughed and i have cried. I just started writing and though it doesn't rhyme it is something i wrote for my parents before my father passed away MY PATH I have chosen it, it is mine and i have taken ownership of it. This is my path and though some may not have chosen it for me and would have wished that my path was an easier one to follow, it is min, it is who i am. I look back at the path behind me and look at the path before me and it truly does bring a smile to my face. My path is not straight, it is not always clear. My path has twists and turns and very rarely void of debris. My path has riches far more valuable than what money can buy. The riches i have are the ones found in the smile of a child. The eagles cry and the calling of a wolf to his mate. My riches are found in the sound and feeling of a waterfall as it rushes over my body on a cool autumn day. It is in riding quietly with a friend knowing that without words there is a connection and a closeness that needs no explanation. It is the rich gold's and reds of the leaves that lay before me and beckon me onward. It is the richness of friends, near and far, old and new. It is family that is beside you in good times and bad. It is in the hearbeat of a lover after an evening of pleasure. Do not feel bad about the path I follow. It is who I am it is what I choose. And if you choose to walk with me then I welcome you with open arms because it is a path that when shared between loved ones, the riches are infinite, they are forever. I wish you all Love Kathy:)

Two Glasses of Wine When things in your life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember the mayonnaise jar and the 2 glasses of wine... A professor stood before his philosophy class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was. The professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous 'yes.' The professor then produced two glasses of wine from under the table and poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between the sand. The students laughed. 'Now,' said the professor, as the laughter subsided, 'I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The golf balls are the important things; your family, your children, your health, your friends, and your favorite passions; things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full. The pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house, and your car. The sand is everything else; the small stuff. If you put the sand into the jar first, he continued, there is no room for the pebbles or the golf ball s. The same goes for life: If you spend all your time and energy on the small Stuff. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your partner out to dinner. Play another 18 holes. There will always be time to clean the house and fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first; the Things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.' One of the students raised her hand and inquired what the wine represented. The professor smiled. “I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your life may seem, there's always room for a couple of glasses of wine with a friend.

Had to share this one- ---The Missionary's Horse--- A man has been lost in the desert for about two weeks. On a hot day (of course they're all hot) he comes to the home of a missionary. Tired and weak, he crawls up to the house and collapses on the doorstep. The missionary takes him in and nurses him back to health. Feeling better, the man asks the missionary for directions to the nearest town. The missionary tells him he must borrow a horse to make it. He says "However, there is a special thing about this horse. You have to say,"Thank God" to make it go and "Amen" to make it stop. Now anxious to get to town, the man says "Sure, OK" and gets on the horse. He says "Thank God" and the horse starts walking. A bit later he says louder "Thank God, Thank God" and the horse starts trotting. Feeling really brave, the man says, "Thank God,Thank God,Thank God" and the horse is soon up to a full run! About then he realizes he's heading for a huge cliff's edge, and yells "Whoa" but the horse doesn't even slow! It's coming up REAL QUICK and he's doing everything he can to make the horse stop. "Whoa, stop, hold on!" Finally he remembers,"AMEN!!!" The horse stops 4 inches from the cliff, almost throwing him over it's head. The man, panting and heart racing, wipes the sweat from his face and leans back in the saddle. "Oh, he says, gasping for air, "Thank God" (From Laugh-a-Lot) "Horse sense is the thing which keeps it from betting on people." (W.C.Fields)

Hey Guys I wrote this poem for two friends from here who are about to get married this October. Alan and Chan An early morning with coffee and friends Our horses are saddled, our adventure begins What could be better than a ride to the lake Wait maybe to get back and cut the wedding cake A life that was kindled and began here in the fall Now a day spent with our friends we welcome you all Who could have known a weekend that started with rain Would lead to a love that is stronger than any storm that came Hours on the phone and emails oh how they came Who would have known from friendship love would flame From a spark in the rain a fire did ignite That brought us together on this our wedding night I Alan take you dear and beautiful Chan To be the love of my life with all that I am I Chan take you Alan to have and to hold From this day forward as our love it unfolds God has brought us together this we both know Our prayer for tomorrow is that our love will still grow Thank you God for this our love……….. Stan

One more, my personal favorite. AMONG THE LIVING While loping a bronc On a warm still day The cares of the world Seemed far, far away And far overhead Like a peaceful sea I gazed through the sky Toward eternity. Then my pony spooked To a sliding halt And my daydreaming ceased But it wasn't his fault For there in his path Lay a bleached steer's head - So I laughed and told him "That old cow's dead." That 'ol pony thought This was scary to see And those long empty eyes Just stared back at me. But that sun-bleached skull Had a truth to tell, And I shivered a little But I learned it well. That lifeless skull With empty eyes staring Was no more dead than I If I ever quit caring. Keith W. Avery

This is sooo awesome! I'd like to share poetry a life long friend wrote. SALUTE On trusted hoss I took my rope, And searched the human herd with hope. I hunted something extra fine To snare within my swinging twine. And sure enough, the gather's good, I've filled my loop with brotherhood. So, now I give her one more swing, To you, the best of everything. Keith W. Avery

The Man Inside the Mirror I look into the mirror and don’t know who I see. I cannot recognize the man who’s lookin’ back at me. I remember him much younger…best as I recall. I think I saw him in the spring, but now it’s in the fall. He was so much thinner then. His face not quite so round. And his hair was so much thicker. No gray ones could be found. I bet that he was somethin’…all those years ago. But, now he just gets through each day searchin’ for where to go. He used to run and jump and play on tireless limbs of steel. Now, he walks with labored breath…each painful joint he feels. Now, he ain’t quite what he used to be, but don’t yet write him off. He can still ride herd from dawn ‘til dusk. It’s only his heart that’s soft. He takes more time to appreciate the important things each day. Like cool, clear mornings and starry nights and watchin’ children play. A good horse under saddle or a barbecue with friends. Or the soft, sweet smell of honeysuckle or the rain upon his skin. Yes, he’s a little slower now, but life’s still good, you see. For the man inside the mirror…who’s lookin’ back at me. R. Atkinson

A good poem is short story that evokes emotion in the reader. I am honored to share my stories with such talented poetic writers. Almost Nine I still see her in my mind Strolling past my desk at nine Softly glancing down at thee Did she know the affect on me I watch for her each day at nine And pray this day will be the time She will once again pass by my desk And let my eyes behold her Yellow Dress Memories; sad and sweet The mind recalls approaching feet My hands long to hold and caress The woman beneath that Yellow Dress How long ago it appears to be For now I have just a memory New place, new desk, all seems fine I look at my watch, It's Almost Nine Jimmie Michael Anderson