Remember back a long time ago
when your feet and your heart were bare?
When your days revolved around getting a ride
to your little pony's lair?
Back before your khemo alibaba or doc olena san
when you probably had a special friend
named rowdy or buck or Dan?
Before you knew of bits or bridles
just a halter and lead ruled supreme
I bet your pony went wherever you wanted
across hill and dale and stream.
No thoughts of saare, marciante , or cook,
or whether or not to switch trees
your main concern was a mane in your face
and gripping like hell with your knees.
Did your friend, as mine, stop and stare at you
as if you'd lost your mind
when he stopped to watch you pick yourself up
and dust off your behind?
Remember when thoughts were not of cd's
or getting the latest download
your favorite music then, even heard in your dreams
was the sound of hooves on the road.
Remember when troubled your therapist was there
letting you cry in his mane
remember the way he blew softly in your face
as if he too felt your pain?
Sometimes it helps to step back in time
when things moved at a slower pace
to remember that Someone who loves you in Heaven above
gave you the gift of that pony face.