Aquest tema està marcat com "inactiu": L'últim missatge és de fa més de 90 dies. Podeu revifar-lo enviant una resposta.
1streamsong
This is going around, but I thought I'd post it here anyway as I like the take on it.
Just needs a stanza or two added about sitting in the pasture, reading and watching your old friend graze, or perhaps the delights of sitting on top an oldster and reading a book.....I used to do this as a kid--I would lay back on the horse's back while it was grazing and read. I think we each enjoyed the company....anyway....
When I am an old Horsewoman
I shall wear turquoise and diamonds,
And a straw hat that doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my social security
on white wine and carrots,
And sit in my alleyway of my barn
And listen to my horses breathe.
I will sneak out in the middle
of a summer night
And ride the old bay gelding,
Across the moonstruck meadow
If my old bones will allow.
And when people come to call, I will
smile and nod As I walk past the
gardens to the barn and the horses,
inside stalls fresh-lined with straw.
I will shovel and sweat and wear
hay in my hair as if it were a jewel.
And I will be an embarrassment to all,
Who will not yet have found the peace
in being free to have a horse as a
best friend,
A friend who waits at midnight hour
With muzzle and nicker and
patient eyes
For the kind of woman I will be
When I am old.
-unknown-
Just needs a stanza or two added about sitting in the pasture, reading and watching your old friend graze, or perhaps the delights of sitting on top an oldster and reading a book.....I used to do this as a kid--I would lay back on the horse's back while it was grazing and read. I think we each enjoyed the company....anyway....
When I am an old Horsewoman
I shall wear turquoise and diamonds,
And a straw hat that doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my social security
on white wine and carrots,
And sit in my alleyway of my barn
And listen to my horses breathe.
I will sneak out in the middle
of a summer night
And ride the old bay gelding,
Across the moonstruck meadow
If my old bones will allow.
And when people come to call, I will
smile and nod As I walk past the
gardens to the barn and the horses,
inside stalls fresh-lined with straw.
I will shovel and sweat and wear
hay in my hair as if it were a jewel.
And I will be an embarrassment to all,
Who will not yet have found the peace
in being free to have a horse as a
best friend,
A friend who waits at midnight hour
With muzzle and nicker and
patient eyes
For the kind of woman I will be
When I am old.
-unknown-
2nymith
Nice. Very nice. I don't ride horses and it will be a fair while before I am old, but that sounds like a lovely way to spend retirement. The beginning seemed a bit stiff compared to the rest, but that was just my impression of it.
I agree with the thought that another stanza should be added about horses and a good book. I wonder who came up with it, though that hardly matters.
I agree with the thought that another stanza should be added about horses and a good book. I wonder who came up with it, though that hardly matters.
4brickhorse
Oh yes. I'm getting closer to the SS-age, and I thought about this very thing! Thanks for the post. I'm a little late reading it, but better late than....
