A Blue Eyed Pony

Wandering the hill country highways in my blue rider,


A blur of purple flashes by my window.


I suddenly stop and pull over to see a fierce and wild field


of purple and green, woven like a Guatemalan scarf,


as far as the eye can see. I can't help but laugh...


as a little miniature horse scratches her ass on the fence


and others roll and play in the freshness of spring's smile.


A shy blue eyed pony looks back at me,


and I think of Mom singing me to sleep:

"Hush-a-bye, don't you cry
Go to sleep, my little baby
When you waken, you shall find
All the pretty little ponies
Black and blue, sorrel, too
All the pretty little ponies"

Sweet are the memories of girlhood and sorrel ponies...and the strains of the heart.