WILDFIRE

WILDFIRE

The pony was born on the first of July;
A beautiful roan, with a wild look in his eye!
I named him Wildfire because I could see
He never ever would be tamed by a girl like me.

Running with the speed of an eagle in flight,
Wildfire raced on, carefree with delight;
He never won ribbons but he was the best;
A free spirit intent on outdoing the rest!

I never sat saddle on that young roan,
I was quite content to just leave him alone;
And up in the hills (if you look right away)
You'll see Wildfire prancing at play.

Some horses are meant to be tamed and to ride,
A halter and saddle they seem to abide;
With a toss of his head, Wildfire stays free,
And will never be tamed by a girl like me.

Countrymom
2/7/04